I remember when you arrived through those looming double doors. It was early on the Monday, and from my office window I couldn’t help but watch in anticipation every-time there was activity happening outside. Was I a little distracted this day? You bet I was.
My heart was racing with each taxi that pulled up, each persons head emerging from the passenger seat. I don’t remember all the emotions I felt. Part of me really wanted to see you again. A big part was really wishing I wouldn’t. Getting used to life in M&R was going to take some time, and not just for you. I was also fairly new myself.
My paperwork in hand, a chai tea recently served to me from one of the girls. I wouldn’t be the one inducting you this day. Perhaps this was for the best. I’m sure I would have done a professional job, but I always wondered if maybe, just maybe I might have told you your resume didn’t live up to expectations. Whether I would have ushered you out the door.
“I’m sorry, but this time you haven’t been successful.”
I know I wouldn’t have.
If you arrived here, you would have already made that decision. Who was I to convince you otherwise?
Nearly 45 minutes elapsed. Perhaps I was a little on edge. I apologize if I snapped at any girls. Another taxi arrives. I hold my breath.
I see you.
My mind went numb. I wasn’t devastated, not even very sad. I was just a little disappointed. Perhaps disappointed in myself.