we're always ok

“Hey!”
“What?!”

He didn’t hear me, so I went back into the bathroom.

“What?”

He was still shouting ’cause he was in the shower.

“When we move in together, I promise, that if I use your soap, I’ll put it back in the same place so you can find it.”
“Thanks. Maybe I should be promising that I won’t move your soap?”
“How many minutes do I have?”
“Zero. Zero minutes. I’m hungry.”
“Well, you can have some cereal.”
“Can I put it in a bag?”
“Yes. You are like a baby in the park.”

“Except then it would be Cheerios.” We said that part together.

I never worry about what would happen if this didn’t work out. I worry about not worrying about what would happen if this didn’t work out, but that is different, I think.

Maybe I should worry. Do you think you get points for trying not to cry?

’Cause I tried last night, but I was just so hungry and so tired and my feet hurt. And when he walked away in front of me, I thought about David and how wrong something can be even when you think it’s pretty ok.

I tried.

“Hey hey hey. Come here come here come here. I love you.”

I think there is nothing wrong with this. Nothing that a hug and a sandwich won’t fix.


~beatrix

repeats

The first time my bathtub broke, I wrote this:

The first springtime thunderstorm and a broken bathtub: can anything make you want a boyfriend more?

Maybe that anxiety attack that’s lurking just below your ribcage.

It was before I ever saw his face. Or heard his voice. Or fell asleep, cheek to forehead and hand to bicep and toes tucked under calf.

And he told me he liked the image of anxiety lurking, but he’d take the “that’s” out of the second part. He was right, of course, and I should have known we’d fall in love.

The second time my bathtub broke was yesterday, and getting it fixed is looking to be another debacle. The second time my bathtub broke, I had a great place to shower. The next morning, someone even drove me to work.

~beatrix

probably more than five seconds of crazy

I hadn’t seen Ted in. . . days. So as soon as I got home and showered and changed (many, many apologies to anyone who was in smelling distance of my hair on the trip home), I headed his way. And after a few minutes of making-out hellos, we were able to talk a little.

“I’m going to be a crazy girl for five seconds, ok?” I warned him, then took a deep breath so I could get it all out at once, “I was thinking maybe we should go to New Orleans in October because it’s my five-year reunion and the weather will be nice and I need to go back already.”

October is a long way from now, in terms of we.

~beatrix