You bump into an ex-lover on Valentine’s Day—the one whom you often call “The One
That Got Away.”
The fight or flight instinct is unleashed.
My body locks and tense pangs of adrenaline tremble through my veins as I rear my head toward the far end of the bar illuminated by a blue Bud Light sign and peer through the curtains of humanity littered throughout the downtown establishment situated among revelers inching their way through a pub crawl before I trade glances with her … “The One That Got Away.”
What do I do? What do I say? What would she do? What would she say? Would she remember me? Is she still mad at me?
Low self-esteem manifests itself in the fear of rejection, recalling several past incidents where I was embarrassed after hearing a ‘No,’ beat red after imbibing too much or feel left out after not having the courage to attempt to spark up a conversation with an attractive member of the opposite sex.
The negativity seeps into my brain and I bail … Home to my apartment for a night of solo drinking, junk food and remembering what could have been.