what is the shopping for?
842 Words
The mall is packed with shoppers. Christmas music plays over the loud speakers and a youth choir sings carols, gathering a crowd. Even though Christmas is my favorite time of year, from the smells to the sounds, and the general mood of everything, I don’t know how I’m supposed to shop after what happened outside with Heath. I can’t seem to focus on anything else. I even run into a guy walking passed me, bumping shoulders with him because I’m too busy focusing on Heath. I’m not sure how he managed to get this kind of grip on me so quickly. I need to focus on getting my boss a gift and forget about Heath.
I try to think about the task at hand. I steer us toward Macy’s and we make our way to the men’s clothing section. My boss is always wearing sweaters, but they are old and unraveling. Those strange Fargo-looking sweaters with the strings of moose appliques wrapping around the middle that look like they’re from the 1980s. It’s time to update his look.
I can feel Heath watching me as I sort through the racks.The mall is packed with shoppers. Christmas music plays over the loud speakers and a youth choir sings carols, gathering a crowd. Even though Christmas is my favorite time of year, from the smells to the sounds, and the general mood of everything, I don’t know how I’m supposed to shop after what happened outside with Heath. I can’t seem to focus on anything else. I even run into a guy walking passed me, bumping shoulders with him because I’m too busy focusing on Heath. I’m not sure how he managed to get this kind of grip on me so quickly. I need to focus on getting my boss a gift and forget about Heath.
I try to think about the task at hand. I steer us toward Macy’s and we make our way to the men’s clothing section. My boss is always wearing sweaters, but they are old and unraveling. Those strange Fargo-looking sweaters with the strings of moose appliques wrapping around the middle that look like they’re from the 1980s. It’s time to update his look.
I can feel Heath watching me as I sort through the racks.
We take off on a road trip to Central America and find ourselves in a landscape of rolling mountains covered in lush jungle and the sound of waterfalls spilling through the trees. We end up in the back of a pickup truck wandering through bumpy roads, intertwining their route through strange wilderness until we see waves made of sapphire and indigo and we realize we’ve finally arrived at the ocean. In this moment I feel free and I feel alive because we are here and we are together and with him by my side I can do anything. We strip naked and dive into the water and when we come up for air we are breathless with possibility, with love. There’s no yesterday and there’s no tomorrow. Right now all we have is each other and together we are powerful and we are infinite.
The first blizzard of the season has begun and inside amongst the fire and warm drinks we begin to reveal the things about ourselves we don’t particularly like, exposing the ugly truths about our lives we’ve tried to hide. He tells me he’s f****d up and he doesn’t know what I see in him, why I’m here, or what we’re doing. It’s overwhelming, sometimes, he admits. You’re wonderful and I’m nothing and I’ll never be the man that you deserve, he tells me, before swallowing another glass of whiskey. I hesitate and let the questions lie on my tongue before saying anything else. I’m an asshole. I’m a drunk. Did you know that about me? I’ll never be the guy you want me to be, he insists. What are you talking about? I ask. We’re in this together. Everything’s okay. I don’t care about any of that. I love you. I can hear myself trying to sound convincing but I can see the look in his eyes and I know somewhere deep inside it doesn’t matter how many times I tell him this; he’ll never hear me.
It’s a lie told before breakfast. The same old argument that keeps coming around. The things that are said and not meant but they hurt anyway. We go to dinner and we’re both there but not really and this is how the gradual erosion begins. This is where we begin to learn the subtle art of loving someone just enough to fool yourself you’re still committed but with just enough disdain to know in your gut this isn’t right. We kiss each other before bed and he looks at me longingly in the morning before work and it’s in these moments I know I still want this. I want him. And if I can still feel this way towards him then that must mean everything will be okay, everything will work out.
- Writer
