Almost Carried Away

My heart was almost carried away.

I was almost lost in a cloud of love.

A haze of newness and desire.

I stood there. On the tile floor of a grocery store. I stood there.

And my heart stopped.

We talked. M and I.

We knew each other from a club on campus.

She was new, I'd been in it the whole time I was in college.

I was in grad school, she was a sophomore.

Her hair dark, her eyes even darker.

Her skin a delicate olive. About 5'4"

A swimmer and so incredibly fit.

I had just picked up a diamond engagement ring.

It was sitting in my car. I spent more than half of what I made in a semester from my grad assistantship on that ring.

In 6 months, I would be married.

But right then. As I saw M, I knew.

Knew that I should ask her. That I should get on my knee and propose...which was silly, because the ring was in my car and I'd have to explain that ... but it was what I knew I should do. 

There was a connection I could not explain.

I would see her again. And again. And again. Even after I was married, we corresponded.

And I wondered.

What would have happened had I been carried away... Had I asked her to marry me on the floor of that grocery store. Or at the very least, asked her for coffee. Forgotten about the ring for a bit.

My heart was carried away. But not too far.

And one day, I received a message. An email. From M's mother, who was using M's email. Because.

Because M had died. In a fire in her apartment. And her mother said there were a handful of people with whom M had corresponded regularly. That she'd even talked with her family about me. And that the only way to get in touch was this email, which they hadn't accessed until after the funeral.

Had I taken her to coffee, would my life be different? Would she be alive?

Or would it have been just one more moment... my heart slightly more carried away... our lives continuing on their inevitable paths?

If I'd asked her to marry me, what would she have said?

My heart was (almost) carried away. Once.