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198
The Woman I Wanted, but Couldn’t Have
<p><br/></p><p>It was just an ordinary evening</p><p>fluorescent lights, tired shelves,</p><p>a basket half-filled with things I didn’t really need.</p><p><br/></p><p>Then I bumped into her.</p><p><br/></p><p>She looked up</p><p>and for a second,</p><p>the world narrowed to her eyes.</p><p>Soft. Startled. Searching.</p><p><br/></p><p>“I’m sorry,” I said,</p><p>but the apology was the least of what I meant.</p><p>What I meant was:</p><p><em>Where did you come from?</em></p><p><em>Why does this feel familiar?</em></p><p><br/></p><p>She barely spoke,</p><p>yet her silence was louder than the store’s music.</p><p>And when I walked away,</p><p>I carried something with me</p><p>a feeling I couldn’t name.</p><p><br/></p><p>I told myself it was nothing.</p><p>Just coincidence.</p><p>Just imagination dressing up a stranger.</p><p><br/></p><p>But I found reasons to return.</p><p><br/></p><p>Different days.</p><p>Different shirts.</p><p>Same aisle.</p><p><br/></p><p>I wondered if she would be there</p><p>pretending to choose fruit</p><p>while stealing glances she thought I didn’t notice.</p><p><br/></p><p>Because I noticed.</p><p><br/></p><p>The way her breath changed</p><p>when our shoulders almost brushed.</p><p>The way her fingers tightened around nothing.</p><p>The way she looked like she was fighting herself.</p><p><br/></p><p>And then</p><p>one day</p><p>she was there again.</p><p><br/></p><p>The air shifted before I saw her.</p><p>Some people carry perfume;</p><p>she carried presence.</p><p><br/></p><p>Our eyes met.</p><p>Time misbehaved.</p><p>The noise around us dimmed into a distant hum.</p><p><br/></p><p>I wanted to ask her name.</p><p>I wanted to say,</p><p>“I’ve been hoping to see you again.”</p><p><br/></p><p>But pride is a strange armor.</p><p>And fear is even stranger.</p><p><br/></p><p>What if she wasn’t dreaming this too?</p><p>What if I had imagined the spark?</p><p>What if I reached…</p><p>and found only air?</p><p><br/></p><p>So I walked past her.</p><p>Calm on the outside.</p><p>Chaos within.</p><p><br/></p><p>I felt her gaze on my back</p><p>a question neither of us answered.</p><p><br/></p><p>Now I think about it sometimes.</p><p>The woman in the grocery aisle.</p><p>The one who looked like she was waiting</p><p>for courage to choose her.</p><p><br/></p><p>Maybe she thought I didn’t see her.</p><p>Maybe she thought I didn’t feel it.</p><p><br/></p><p>But I did.</p><p><br/></p><p>I just couldn’t move.</p><p>Or maybe</p><p>I was too stunned</p><p>to believe something so rare</p><p>could actually be meant for me.</p><p><br/></p><p>And so she became</p><p>the woman I wanted,</p><p>but couldn’t have.</p><p><br/></p><p>A stranger.</p><p>A memory.</p><p>A possibility</p><p>that still lingers</p><p>between what was</p><p>and what might have been.</p><p><br/></p>
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