You didn’t really expect it. Two weeks ago you shared a bottle of wine at the bar. You exchanged light conversation at first, but after a couple of glasses you both got braver, and gave each other gentle hints as to how you feel. What made you angry. What you miss most. What you want now. Something was accomplished, maybe it was just a little communication. But you both walked away from each other feeling better than you have about yourselves, and one another, for the past couple of months.
“Lets meet for dinner on Thursday, just to catch up and hang out.”
“Are we still on for dinner tonight.”
“Yeah, That’s why I was calling”
“Cool. So where do you want to go?”
“I dunno what do you feel like doing?”
“Maybe we could go out for sushi.”
“Yeah. Or I was thinking I could come over and make Lasagna or Tacos.”
“That sounds great.”
“I’ll pick up a video while getting groceries”
You tidy up a little when you get home. You haven’t had guests in a long, long time and your apartment is looking a little shabby. You put on an album that reminds you of her. You go out and get some juice to make drinks with. You make sure you have something productive to do when she walks in. Folding laundry will do just fine.
Cooking food, listening to music, sipping on cape cods, and talking about whatever comes to mind has always been one of your favorite activities to do with her. You’re glad because lasagna takes a long time to prepare, and even longer to cook. She’s going to stay a while. You’ll have ample time to catch up. You eat dinner and watch My Big Fat Greek Wedding. A funny romantic comedy, exactly the kind of movie you’d expect her to pick out and like. And you’re glad she did. You lounge on the couch and eat and look through photos – getting closer and closer together. Soon you are both lying on the couch, your arms wrapped around her legs when she says,
“What time is it? Wow, it’s late already. I’ve got to go.”
“You can stay here.” You swallow hard. But it was easier to say than you thought it would be.
“All my stuff is at home though.”
“I know. You don’t have to. I’m just saying you can.”
She gets up to get her coat out of the bedroom. You follow. She collapses on the bed. You follow. And wrap you arms around her and get as close to her as you can. And after a few minutes she says,
“That wasn’t a nothing look”
“I was just thinking about how nice it is to lay in bed with you again.”
“It is isn’t it?”
You go on to talk about how it is to be single now. How the best part of being single is having the bed all to yourself. And how the worst part about being single is having the bed all to yourself. You talk about how we both as humans and animals have a need for physical contact. How much holding, and hugs, and stokes of affection really benefit our well-being. How our very nature is often dependent on our need and desire for nurture. You tell her that it’s like some sort of meter that needs to be recharged, a battery that wears down with loneliness and isolation. And realizing you both need the same things she says,
“Get ready for bed. We’ll charge each other up”
And you fall asleep in each other’s arms.