But Why?

My mom and grandmother are sitting on the couch in the Kovalcik's living room. I'm in the chair across the room from them. They explain to me that if I'll dye my hair completely blonde and keep it that way that my cousin will take me to a cookie fair. They say it as if it's a punishment. My cousin pokes her head around the door and nods emphatically.

He Needs A Quiet Room

Mike and I are led to a quiet booth in a corner of the resaurant. I lay my coat over my seat and whisper to him that I'm going to use the restroom quickly and that I'll be right back.

The waitress must have stopped by to get drink orders while I was gone, because when I come back there are two glasses on the table. I take a sip of mine and am pleasantly surprised.

Dr. Pepper. He ordered me Dr.Pepper. We've been dating for ten months, so knowing what i like to drink at a restaurant really isn't that big of a deal, I suppose. But it's a little thing. One of the millions of little things that make up this BIG love.

**************************************************

Not a particularly in depth dream with metaphorical meaning or anything, but I woke up smiling.

A Wake Up Call

More often than not I wake to the sound of my phone buzzing with a text. Today I groggily reach behind my pillow and grab my phone, to see who the well wisher is, and what their wish may be.

Blaine.

What are you doing right now?

I'm in bed, so I tell him as much. Why? I start to drift back off while waiting for a reply.

Do you have any? comes the response that jerks me back to awareness.

Any what? I ask in genuine confusion.

He calls me now and laughs gently at me when I pick up sleepily. Are you in possession of drugs right now? he says this slowly and clearly, as though he's talking to a particularly dim five year old.

No...Why would I be?

I'm coming over.

Suddenly he's knocking on my bedroom door and bounding into my little cell telling me to get

up!up!up!up!

We spend the rest of the morning chasing little dust bunnies(!) around the peripheries of my room because, or so he tells me, you can smoke them if you do it right.

*****************************************************

The image fades as I'm pulled into consciousness by the buzzing of my phone under my pillow.

I look at the screen.

It's Blaine.

What are you doing right now?

But What If We Like It?

As we entered the restaurant hand-in-hand,

a young man stalked through the door.

his face was set at once in an expression

both stony and sullen.

Close on his heels, a young woman came running,

her fists desperately pummeling his back while she yelled,

"Goddamn you! Come back here and be nice to me!"

That poignant, impossibly self-contradictory plea

aimed at a retreating back

touched my heart.

I turned to you.

"Isn't it nice to see young couples

working things out?"

You smiled.

You didn't walk out.

I didn't chase after you.

You were nice to me.

Like you always are.

And I loved you.

Like I always do.