Clichéd [COMPLETE]

i n t r o

Either I can woman up and confront my problems or jump off the nearest cliff with middle fingers high laughing fuck this shit as I plummet.

There's no cliff around here.

I checked.

I watched him from across the street while I hugged myself, staring at Harry as he simply bought a bag of mangos, conversing with the fruit stand man.

Turn around and drop those mangoes.
Turn around and drop those mangoes.

We've seen it in all those cheesy movies, where the lovers haven't seen eachother in years and the first thing they look for is their eyes, or smile, or even hearing the soft sounds of their laugh.

I was waiting to look at that ass.

There was a little voice in the back of my head saying 'what ass,' as I narrowed my vision to the black skinny jeans Harry was wearing but from what I remember my vanilla man sported a really cute ass.

Sometimes he'd be in our shower with his like back facing me, and even though his ass was small it was so tightly packed and firm.

Like a little FedEx package that has the word fragile stamped onto it.

Harry suddenly dropped his change, bending over to pick it up, his hair slightly longer than the last time I saw it, not fully reaching his shoulders but curling just perfectly at his jaw.

Hell yeah...

Two years since I've last seen my ex husband after I'd left him, since we've last talked or even heard from one another and the first thing he'll see after all this time apart is me wolf whistling across the street checking out his ass.

I always checked with Georgia or Carlos on how he was doing though.

Him, like himself and his life not his ass.

Okay sometimes I ask how his ass is looking these days over the phone but it's -it's me.

I could never really truly leave Harry completely and moving on wasn't an option, my goal was just to get myself better, to ease the panic attacks and to recover from my depression and fears after having a still birth with Olivia.

So now I was back here in our town where Harry stayed even after I left him with just a letter and my wedding ring on our bed.

It wasn't the best decision, it was stupid actually but I knew my state of mind would never get better being with Harry, watching him struggle to throw or give away all of the toys and furnitures we bought for our baby that would never live.

Catching him stare longingly at a family, a random mom and dad holding their baby in their arms when we're in public.

He wanted something that I couldn't give him, because I was just that afraid to try again.

I knew I was holding him back from having the family he's always wanted.

But now I'm back, I'm healthy, both mentally and physically and I feel like my old self again.

My happiness was Harry among other things but it was mainly him, just thinking about seeing him again without wanting to cry because I felt like I disappointed him in some way really helped motivate me.

"Hey, remember me? Your ex-wife, ha yeah, what's good man?" I nervously began to mumble under my breath, pulling down the sleeves of my sweatshirt to cover my shaking hands as I began to cross the street, keeping my eyes trained on Harry who was still looking around the outdoor market, not seeing me through the crowd.

Another step.

"S'up, those mangoes in your hand look really ripe. Almost as ripe as your ass." I said, whispering to myself and rewording whatever I was going to say when I approached Harry, shaking my head and trying to think of something else to say.