Not really

Last night I was in Ballard. I stopped by Sonic Boom. Upon returning to my car, a memory from the past flashed before me. There it stood, the hip diner where we first met and frequented. It was busy per uge. I struggled to enter, my stomach tied in knots, but I managed. I requested to sit where we began. I wanted that moment again. I ordered a coffee. I decided not to eat. I would wait for you. I know you’re not coming. I knew then, it was June, it was the 6th of June to be exact. We bared our souls one last time, and then you excreted me. I fell nauseous meanwhile you regained your appetite.