The snail from Texas

Brains are funny. The things we think of south bound on I-15, amuse me. I thought I saw a guy I dated briefly in the lane next to me. He was going ten under, had to be him, because he was snail like.

My family called him cupcake. Not because he was sweet but because the only time they ever met him, he ate like 15 of them. Raspberry cream cheese, my sister’s recipe. He came from Texas, and not everything is bigger in Texas, I can assure you.

We ate cheese and drank wine on our first date. Cheese, well anything involving that seems promising. We had only been dating a couple of months when I knew I didn’t want to be with him. He played a new video game for three days straight. He ate the last of the cereal while camped out on my couch, my girls went without.

This morning I thought of that afternoon in the Walgreens aisle. He stood there all pathetic, salt in the wound like. Looking back on that day, I wonder if he was faking it, hoping I would stay. He had mental health issues, unsure of which kind. It makes me wonder though, if he is still alive.

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