Wednesday, July 26, 2006

I hadn't been for about 2 months, and was happy that morning i decided to go to church. It was going to be a really good day, i thought, and was all smiley. She hadn't been for, oh, 8 mths, and no one knew if she was ever coming back. "She's changed." they whispered behind her back, no one wanting to have a prolonged conversation about bags or makeup.

Who would have thought we would both decide to come back on the same day to church? During the opening hymm i saw a flash of her red jacket, and at that instant, turned and recognised her. Inadvertently (fittingly) invoking God's name as i saw her. The bf turned and saw his ex. We stared at in other in mortification and other. We stared at the hymm lyrics. It had to happen sooner or later. Why not now?

I knew it was about time we met, i'd wanted to long ago. Recognising her from her pictures was easy. Its bizarre, but sitting behind her i was able to observe all her little motions and the sound of her coughs, of her voice as she greeted the rest of the group, and every little thing seemed so..her. More of recognition than observing, i felt. Of all things her mom was there, and i felt her eyes on me, When i looked up to meet her mom's eyes, i couldn't tell what she was thinking, but she seemed to be smiling slightly. Great.

Later when we all sat together after service, it was hard for me to say anything to her. She studiously avoided my eye after i caught it, sat as far away from me as possible, and i would have laughed at her efforts to remain so blase if i had not been feeling so unerved myself. I almost felt sorry, the way the girls in the group didn't exactly hurry to welcome her back, the way they they recoiled a little the more she flashed her scarlet nails and makeup around. I might have left, if not for the steadying look in jamerson's eyes, and his gentle pressure of reassurement on my hands as he left me alone with the girls.

Did i have reason to feel awkward? Yes. Did i have reason to feel guilty? I think we all three do.

Crap.