Harmless memory
I'm sitting diagonal to a man that looks just like my past lover. Like my way past lover. The one I actually loved. Except his hair is a tad longer in the back and his voice is nothing like the calming soothe that I haven't heard in years. Same bone structure, same figure, similar beard. I noticed immediately and have tried not to really care. I guess I did enough to write about it. He sits with a table of friends or associates and here I sit, alone noticing. I laugh at my pathetic romanticism.