The Chase

I strive to change my appearance. As if that is the reason that he left. I know that is not the reason, or at least not the only reason. I wanted to imagine that he would come back if I looked better. Now as I pursue this new image of me, I understand it does not matter. He will never see it, but it makes me feel better about myself.

Conversely other men do see. I notice that when introduced, now instead of instantly scanning the crowd for someone else, they hold my gaze. Perhaps I am more confident and that is the reason, or maybe it is just my imagination. The gaze makes me want to scream - yes, yes, pursue me, chase me, CHASE me. Perhaps I will let you catch me for a moment. But this is a lie, I don’t want to be caught.