There are moments in your life that emblazon themselves in your memory. A painful one of mine popped up unexpectedly this morning on my way to the gym, to a Taylor Swift song. I remember it so vividly: the moment I saw my ex with the other girl. My entire life came to a standstill and crumbled into pieces in front of me.
My girlfriends and I were home on Christmas break; we went out to a Canadian bar where we could legally drink. We were laughing, dancing, doing shots... I remember being intoxicatedly happy. My roommate, Kirst, spun me around the dance floor in a sloppy tango, prancing me from one end to the other. I threw my head back in laughter, and people parted ways for us to charge through.
She went to dip me, and that's when I saw them. The crowded bar seemed to dissipate, and everything began to move in slow motion. I stood frozen, still holding Kirst's hand, the look on her face revealing that she had spotted them before I had. Her eyes dropped, she clenched my hand. They were standing at the bar, he was buying her a drink. I watched him laughing and smiling at her as my heart shattered into a million, billion pieces on the floor.
For a moment, I considered charging them and throwing the drinks they had just bought, punching him and slapping her. But I couldn't bring myself to move; I was cemented in this spectatorial position.
I couldn't feel my heart; my arms were numb. I felt as if I was sinking into quicksand, watching my life crumble in front of my very eyes. And as I grabbed my coat and walked out of the bar, supported on each arm by my very best girlfriends, I took one last glance at the two of them and didn't shed one tear. He never even knew I was there.