The Yellow Door Life

Dear Chipotle Church Guy, 

First of all, I know your name, but I won’t put you on blast on my blog. Referring to you as that brings some comedic relief to the whole situation too, which helps. 

I’m no longer mad about how things went down, but I need to write this letter to get something off of my chest that has been bothering me. 

For months, we smiled back and forth at each other and you always looked so excited when I showed up at Chipotle after church on Wednesday nights. 

It took me 7 months to introduce myself, but when I did, you were so happy and we had such a good conversation in front of the drink station. 

My question is, why didn’t you tell me then?

After that, we engaged in conversation back and forth every Wednesday and you always lit up every time we were around each other. 

Then all of a sudden, you stopped sitting near me in church. You didn’t come to Chipotle. Then finally, you showed up one Wednesday evening wearing a ring on a very particular finger. 

I knew then I needed to know the truth.

So the following Wednesday, I asked you out to coffee and you said yes. You handed me your phone to put my number in. I was so nervous. I couldn’t believe it was finally happening. As I was standing there trying to remember my name, you looked at me and smiled and said you always refer to me as your “Chipotle Buddy.” Awwww. So I put that in your phone next to my name. I was so busy typing Emily – Chipotle Buddy though that I saved the contact without actually putting my number in. 

Whoops. 

I didn’t realize it till I was driving down the road and immediately circled back to see if you were still at the church. You weren’t, so I said oh well, and headed to Chipotle – perhaps, you would be there. 

I arrived at Chipotle and got in line, and as I did you pulled into the parking lot and parked your truck. You came in immediately. You handed me your phone and said “You forgot something.” 

I smiled, took your phone and said “I sure did.” 

As I started typing in the numbers (finally), you looked at me and said, “I wanted to make sure you knew though, I’m engaged.” 

My whole body froze. I had already put my number in and didn’t know what to do. Why on earth would you have gotten my number just to tell me you’re engaged? 

So there we were standing in Chipotle, where our conversations originally began, and now I knew the truth. 

The question remains, why didn’t you tell me then? 

I’ll never understand your motives; it’s not like I plan to ever speak to you again, but genuinely I am curious, who were you calling me your “Chipotle Buddy” to? 

Cause I’m guessing it wasn’t your girl.

I honestly expected better from a devout, Catholic man and hope you will do better in how you relate to women in the future.

Good luck in your marriage.

Sincerely, and not at all bitter,

The Girl Behind the Yellow Door ❤