I used to think that riding carousels and running down beaches was going to be the sign of my love for you. That it was gonna be snippets of bedtime stares and you bringing me roses each time you saw me. And that without a doubt in my mind I would know I loved you. I would feel it. My smile would alert the world. It would be obvious and enviable. And you would return it.
Right? Isn’t that what it’s supposed to be like? Just you and I in our own world?
It didn’t happen that way.
I started craving your presence when I was folding a navy long sleeve t-shirt. I went to go get a carton of milk and thought you would tell me to get 1% instead of 2%.
I bought 1%.
One morning someone told me a story and in it one of their friends had your name. I found it difficult to remember the end of that story.
The title of a book made your face flash before my eyes, and then everything was blurry.
The woman who handed me a tissue realized I was crying before I did.
I saw you in everything.
The book I was reading.
The tv show I was watching.
The dog that was the same color as your dog.
The milk I poured in the eggs I made before work.
And my writing.
But unlike I thought it would be, it was a sad day when I realized I loved you. I had every doubt in my mind. I didn’t smile. It wasn’t obvious and for damn sure it wasn’t enviable.
And you didn’t return it.
I used to think that riding carousels and running down beaches was going to be the sign of my love for you. That it was gonna be snippets of bedtime stares and you bringing me roses each time you saw me. Yet it was the need for you to be with me in the moments I was most alone that I realized I loved you. I wanted you for the mundane things in life. I knew I was stuck. I would always care about you.
What a tragedy that I didn’t tell you about my love before I sent you away.
I am going to get milk today.
I will buy 2%, this time.