
And stand in the way they did.

When we arrived in Europa, I skulked through the port, avoiding eye
contact whenever I could.  It really did seem like we would get
away with it, but I couldn't shake the vague sense of shame and
self-loathing that was building up inside me.

I saw you at the baggage claim.  You seemed to be sobbing.  Some
passer-by had his arm around you and was offering you a tissue.  He
looked like the handsome type.  I only just remembered that now.
Funny, huh?  At the time, I didn't feel or notice much of anything.

I thought that, for a moment, you saw me there.  Did you?

Well, there's no point in asking you that now.  You can't know.

I hurried off as quickly as I could.  Part of that was cold
rationality, the kind that you taught me.  I knew it wouldn't be
smart for us to be seen together.  But the other part was that
shame feeling I mentioned.  Would you still look at me in the same
way after what I did?  Could you?

I would never find out. That was the last time I saw you.

