I will wait for you in the ruins of the food court near what was once the Cinnabon

Our story weaved in out of several towns and many years: 

so many layers

We did not follow a straight path of meet, join, disperse

it was/ is  more of a series of lines that converged then diverged 

In twenty years,  forty ?   

I am sure we will meet again

maybe just a chance meeting at a long closed suburban mall 

something poetic about a third chance at a second hand store 

^{thanks to Majorana for the title}