Dear Dashing Gentleman at Target,
It was an ordinary Tuesday, the kind that leaves one running low on paper towels, patience, and perhaps a craving for something a little sparkling. Target has always been my happy place, and it seemed to be yours too. I watched you stride purposefully toward the dishware section, hand in hand with a delightful little girl. You were clearly on a mission, well aware that time can be fleeting when shopping with kids.
The way you moved made it clear you were a veteran shopper, and I must admit, it was a little intoxicating. When you paused in the housewares aisle, I thought it best to inch closer. After all, one can always use another stemless wine glass or a chic table runner. I couldn’t help but notice the vibrant ink adorning your arm—it made my heart race, compelling me to pick up my pace. While I typically wouldn’t chase after a man, intrigue can certainly work wonders.
You exuded a charm that was subtle, not the flashy type that screams for attention. When I saw you lift a pristine white platter, my heart skipped a beat. I longed to share my own collection of white dishes with you, but I hesitated; discussing my fondness for dinnerware with a stranger felt too forward, bordering on desperate. I could already picture myself blurting out something silly like, “That platter would look amazing with my homemade pastries on it.” Clearly, I’m not the best when it comes to flirting.
I hadn’t yet spotted a ring on your left hand, and I wanted to be sure my Target-induced daydreams weren’t clouding my judgment. So, I decided to admire you from a distance, pretending to be interested in the three bags of Baked Lay’s in my cart. The patience your little companion displayed suggested that this was a regular outing for you (swoon).
As you picked up a stack of white square plates, I imagined us decorating a home together, filled with all the treasures from Target. My heart raced when I finally confirmed your ringless hand. Fueled by a surge of confidence, I moved in closer, ready to say something witty. Instead, I walked by, unable to muster the courage.
When our eyes met across the aisle, and we both bit down on our Starbucks straws, I felt a flutter in my stomach that quickly morphed into a wave of anxiety. It was exhilarating yet terrifying. I wanted to leap into your arms and simultaneously turn and flee.
As I checked out, I thought about the possibility of us sharing a kiss in aisle 6, settling down in a cozy house adorned with Target finds, and enjoying lasagna on our cherished white plates. I envisioned a night out at a Mexican restaurant, overindulging in margaritas, followed by a shopping spree at Target.
Just as I reached the exit, I caught a glimpse of you in the Dollar Spot, watching me. In a moment of clumsiness, I rammed my cart into the automatic doors. I wanted to run back and embrace you, but I knew that moment had slipped away. So, I drove off, crunching through a whole bag of Baked Lay’s, regretting my missed opportunity.
Perhaps I’ll never cross paths with you again, or maybe fate will intervene. Regardless, we will always share that fleeting moment at Target. But be warned—should I see you again, caressing a pillow or anything else, I won’t let you slip away.
Yours in Absence,
The Woman Who Regrets Not Speaking Up
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Summary:
This whimsical love letter captures a chance encounter between the author and a charming man at Target. Amidst the mundane task of shopping, the author reflects on the magnetic pull between them and the regrets of not expressing her interest. Through humor and vulnerability, she illustrates the bittersweet nature of missed connections, leaving the door open for potential future encounters.