It’s a nice thought

We weren’t supposed to see each other just yet.

I pushed the cart to the right, or more like lifted it, trying to get it unstuck. The wheeled had turned around and wouldn’t go back to its place and do its job. I was growing frustrated, especially since I only had a limited amount of time to do the shopping for today, and this little wheel wasn’t going to be my demise, I thought motivating myself trying to turn on the aisle without hitting anything or anyone. 

It was a special day after all. We had this entire day planned, well, I had this entire day plan so it would be perfect. Some of the perfection came from me having cooked some delicious rice, chicken, and mashed potatoes. Except there weren’t any potatoes at home. And I couldn’t very well serve just the chicken alone. The potatoes were his favourite.

The cart wouldn’t budge, and I had managed to get it stuck in the middle of the already small entrance to the aisle. Did I even need a freaking cart? Potatoes, cat food, and my secret ingredient for mashed potatoes. I went over my list and decided I didn’t need it. I tried returning the cart but it wouldn’t even budge that way. 

“UGH!” I let out a loud exasperated sigh. I grabbed the cat food that was sitting in the cart and made my way around it, trying to hold them in just one hand so I’d be able to grab the stuff I needed and get the hell out.

I dropped them.

To be fair, it hadn’t totally been my fault. I mean, yes, I was looking down, but it was this. . . this guy. . .  

I looked up to find the eyes that had become so familiar to me, eyes I looked at even more than my own.

“What are you doing here?” we said at the same time.

“Just doing some shopping,” Henry said.

“Yeah, me too,” I said. “You got off work earlier?” I asked way too fast, I wasn’t sure he had heard me.

“I did, yeah.”

The most uncomfortable and long silence followed.

“Should we. . .” Henry said tailing off and pointing at us.

“Uh, sure, yeah, yeah.” 

I was trying too hard. Trying too hard to act cool. Trying too hard to be the perfect housewife—-not that we were married. And it showed.

He laughed first. I don’t know if at me, but I hoped it was with me. He kneeled down to pick up the things I had dropped and put them in the basket he carried on his left hand. A basket. Smart.

“So what are you shopping for?” He asked.

“Um.” I started walking, looking around the shelves, anything to keep me away from this conversation. “Nothing really.”

“So you just decided to come here out of boredom to buy cat food?”

“Well, I knew you were low on it,” I said.

We made our way to the produce section. I could see the potatoes from anywhere I looked. It was like they were following me, anywhere I looked, they were there. Soon we were leaving the section, but Henry stopped on the side where we weren’t on anyone’s way. He was always so considerate like that. 

“You sure you don’t need anything from here?” He asked.

“Oh no,” I said, putting my head in my hands. “You know about dinner?”

He laughed. “I saw the recipe and realized we had no potatoes. I thought I might,” he started walking towards them, pulling me by the hand he had grabbed from my face and interlocked our fingers. “I might get off work a little early, come buy them, bring them home, and disappear so you’d be comfortable enough to do dinner.”

“It’s a nice thought,” I said only slightly sarcastically. I couldn’t even concentrate on grabbing potatoes anymore, it was all him now. “It’s not like I’m uncomfortable around you, you know.”

“I know.”

“It’s just. . .”

“I know.”

Well, it was a good thing he knew because I sure as hell didn’t. Henry and I had been dating for a year and a half. We met at a friend of a friend party and spent some time together. We lived in different cities at the time, so at the end of the night I had to go back home. He offered me the guest bedroom at his place. I accepted. We had been dating long-distance ever since, and until about this week.

You’d think that after a year of spending weekends with him either at his house or my little, crappy apartment, we’d be used to each other—-or well I’d be used to him since I seemed to be the only one with a problem. But it felt like too much for me. I loved Henry, I wouldn’t have moved in if I didn’t. But I didn’t love where life had taken me.

We didn’t had a “normal” relationship. It was like we went from zero to a hundred in two days. People usually say it’s special to connect with someone so deeply and so fast, but I disagreed. I worried too much. What if I was getting attached to him just because he was pretty much the only one that paid attention to me? What if I was just scared of being alone? And the worst one: what if he’s plotting something? A prank? A who can date a loser the longest bet?

“You’ve been quiet,” Henry said when we got in the car making our way home.

“I’ve just been thinking,” I said.

“No,” he whispered. “I mean, always.”

After a few seconds of silence I simply said, “I know,” and went back to my mind.

I didn’t love this part about myself. I could get carried away over nothing. I looked over at Henry, his eyebrows furrowed, his mouth in a thin line.

I held my hand out to him and he didn’t miss a second grabbing it. I brought it to my lips, kissed it, and held it with both hands on my lap.

It was a beautiful day. Spring was around the corner, the days were getting longer. I looked at Henry. The sunset laid on the side of his face, turning his complexion a few shades more golden than usual.

“What are you looking at?” He was trying not to smile.

“Nothing that concerns you, sir.”

He looked back at me, not even bothering to hide his smile anymore.

I wondered what I looked like, with the sunset on my face. Was I everything he hoped? Everything he wanted? Was he realizing I was too much and nothing at all at the same time?

He pulled his hand and mine towards him and kissed the outside of my wrist.

“I know you wanted this to be special,” he said as we were pulling into his driveway after a silent, but beautiful, drive home. “But what could be more special than us cooking a kickass dinner together?”

And he was right. Not about the kickass dinner, mind you—-we almost burnt everything, house included—-but about it being special. The awkwardness was mostly gone, but what was left there created moments of laughter and mocking each other. My thoughts from earlier managed to not make their way back to me and I was grateful for that.

I was so worried earlier about making the perfect dinner and having the perfect date. I never should have been. 

Any time we got to spend together, it was special. We had fought for this. We worked hard to be able to be together in the same place, at the same time. Any time we spent together was special for us.

Even if we almost burned down the house.