The Moment I Knew. No longer a song about Jake Gyllenhaal jilting Taylor at her 21st birthday, leaving her crying in her red lipstick and party dress (I’m barely paraphrasing here, in case you were wondering), it was now a ballad of my own loss—my own vegetal heartbreak.
Through the dismay I turned to take in the vacant square. And it was like slow motion. Taylor feels my feelings: It would have felt like a million little shining stars had just aligned to see those white tents, those bins of just-dug potatoes. You said you’d be here. What do you do when the one who means the most to you is the one who didn’t show? I’m not sure. I just walked to work, imagining myself as the protagonist in the saddest music video of all time. Baggus dragging behind me. Flashbacks of my happy moments at the market this summer—holding big melons up to my face to smell, greeting the first Brussels sprouts with wide eyes and laughter—playing in the reflective surfaces and puddles I passed. You should have been there, and I would’ve been so happy.
Let’s look back now, and remember the good times—from the first bright green asparagus to the last knobby little parsnip.