It was ham and cheese that day. A little bit of mayo. The merest hint of Dijon mustard. Whole wheat bread. A lettuce leaf. A tomato slice.
I was sitting in the lunch room when my phone screen lit up with a text message from you. All it said was “We need to talk. In person. Tonight.”
I wasn’t ready for what you told me. I still don’t think I’ve processed it. I’ve kept going but nothing is the same. Nothing will ever be the same.
The next day, I had peanut butter and fluff on white bread for lunch.