Science Nerd

I’m trying to remember what his favorite was, either the spinach falafel or the spicy whipped feta. I stare at the menu racking my brain, thinking back to the menu on our wedding day but it's not helping. Exasperated, I flop on the couch and pull my knees to my chest, breathe in and hold, two, three, four, five, exhale slowly. I hate that I can't remember. Did I ever know for sure? I think back to when we did the tasting to set the wedding menu, it was all so good, does it matter which was his favorite? Maybe I just order all of it, there will be leftovers, and that's not a bad thing, is it? It's a c-y-a move, but I should know, shouldn't I? Does it make me a bad person that I don't know this? I sit up and look at the menu again. 

I'll do what I always do and over-order, and I'll get 2 feta and 2 falafel, and the cacik, muhmara, extra bread, don't forget extra bread... I realize I'm smiling, remembering how much bread I plowed through and his having to ask the server for more, and then letting me eat most of it. Bread pig, that's me. Should I get dessert? No, there will be plenty of food and given the choice we both would pick the savory over the sweet. 

I go to the wine fridge to see what's there and find a nice bottle of pinot from Willamette, as I look at the label I remember walking around Martinetti's with him, and I realize I'm smiling again. Martinetti's is now a Mazzarati dealership, this should bum me out but it doesn't because the transformation from a liquor store I loved to a dumb exotic car dealership made him insanely happy, him being the biggest gear head in the universe. I know far more than I should about cars thanks to him, and I am still of the opinion that it's stupid to spend hundreds of thousands of dollars on a single car, a topic we heartily disagreed upon, even though it was purely theoretical and was maybe the only topic we disagreed upon. 

I catch myself and frown, that wasn't our only disagreement, and I remember our last disagreement, and I feel my heart start to race, breathe, two, three, four, five, exhale slowly. I can't believe I was such a bitch. I take a few more deep breaths and feel my pulse start to even out. 

I order the food online for delivery, again thinking maybe it's too much but better to have too much than not enough.  I set the table for two so that it'll be ready for when the food arrives, dim the lights and set out some candles that I’ll light after the food arrives. 

It’ll take at least 45 minutes for the food to get here. I pace around the apartment for a few minutes, hating the wait for the delivery. I head to the living room and lay on the couch and try not to think about our last disagreement. I fail and feel my heart quicken as I am sucked back into replaying it yet again in my head. 

Do all arguments start with something innocuous, an offhand comment, that transforms into something serious? What if I hadn’t said that the people in that news story were idiots? I mean, clearly they were but if I hadn’t said it out loud, maybe there wouldn’t have been a fight. 

My heart is pounding and the panic attack I’ve been warding off is going to happen if I don’t do something to try to stop it. I focus on doing the breathing exercises Dr. Lukas taught me until I feel less out of control. 

The doctor says what happened is not my fault. I think he has to say that but words have consequences and mine were responsible for his leaving the apartment that night. Sarah says that if we knew then what we know now that he never would have left the apartment and like Dr. Lukas, what happened was not my fault. A distant part of me understands this is true but it is overshadowed by a mountain of guilt and sadness. 

He came home after an hour and we made up, of course. After we apologized to each other he told me about the nerdy dude he met at the bar down the street in town for some science conference and how the poor guy had to listen to him complain about me for close to 45 minutes. We laughed then poured some wine to drink while watching the first new Walking Dead episode of the year on the DVR. 

Hard to believe that a zombie show has lasted 10 years. Hard to believe we thought everything was good and well. Hard to believe that was the last episode we’d watch together. By the time the next episode aired he wasn’t feeling well so we didn’t watch it. Then, he just wasn’t. 

If we hadn’t fought and he hadn’t gone to the bar and hadn’t met the science nerd he wouldn’t have gotten sick. Dr. Lukas and Sarah both tell me that I am not responsible but I feel responsible.  Sarah reminds me that he would not want me to blame myself, that he would hate that. I know she is right, but still. 

The buzzer rings alerting me that the food has arrived. I put on my mask and head downstairs, peeking out the window on the front door I see the bag of food, left on the stoop as requested. I grab the bag and head back upstairs to set it out. 

After removing the food from the to-go containers I wash my hands, place the food on the table and light the candles. I open the wine and pour myself a glass. Before I sit I grab the framed wedding photo from the living room and gently set it on his plate so that it faces me. As I look at it, my heart breaks yet again.