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The One That Got Away


She is gorgeous. 

Her eyes twinkle and it lights up my soul. She’s my soulmate. I’m so happy she responded to my profile. This is fate. This is it.

“Wow, you’re cute!” she muses.

I soak it in, my heart fills with glee. I wonder what she likes to eat. What she likes to do. Where she likes to go. I’ll go wherever she wants!

She has a reputable career, makes good money, has healthy relationships with family and friends, and has normal hobbies. Where has she been all my life?

She enjoys the thrills of life and always wants to pursue them. Just like me! I had to be pushed a little bit to go to PT school, but, hell, I did it!

What shall we do now? She says she has just the idea! She wants to show me an exhilarating time. I like this. She grabs my hand, and off we go. Do I mind driving with her? I laugh. Anywhere you want to go, my love.

She parks at the mall. Interesting. What will we do here? Go on the carousel? Try different foods at the food court? We did just eat a lot…

Come on! Her hand is so soft in mine.

She leads me into the Swarovski store where I imagine we’ll fantasize about her engagement ring. She is perfect.

“May we see that ring please?” she asks sweetly. “Oh. Do you have the Queensland Peony, yet?”

“Hm, I am not sure miss. Let me check. Stella!” The employee turns for a moment.

Then just like that, she mouths “run,” and dashes out of the open store front into the mall. I didn’t know what to do, so I ran. My ankle twisted slightly, but I moved through the pain. 

Where had she gone? Where do I go? She’s insane! That twinkle in her eye is craziness! Oh my god. Where do I-

SECURITY! STOP!

Run. Just keep going. I didn’t do anything. This mall is so big. My mind raced.

I hear the footsteps behind me quickly approaching. My heart beats loudly in my ears.
I turn quickly and see a red Exit sign at the end of a hallway. 
I think this leads to the parking lot…
But it could be the Dead End with those tall walls! I have no choice!
I turn and run with all the speed I can muster.

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