He wanted to take me out to lunch so we went to this lamp shop that had swanky new styles antiques and old ones alike for god knows who would buy for the prices, but in the back of the store was this humble cafe where he bought me a latte and we shared a sandwich.
I always eat the pickle when we share a plate, we both know this. So I’m eating my pickle ( which was really both of ours but totally mine) and somehow while I’m in the depth of conversation I’m going to set it back on my plate but it slips from my fingers and falls right into my coffee cup and I just stop what I’m saying and look at him with an absolute blank expression and he looks at me like did you really just drop a fuckin pickle in your latte? And I reach in casually and release my pickle dripping with hot milk onto my plate and carrying on my conversation and he busts out laughing in this cafe and people are staring but I don’t care because it’s the best kind of laugh. I swallowed my pride and ate the rest of the pickle. It was still good. He was such a trooper the rest of the afternoon. Listening and watching and talking about all the cute things we saw and how our hearts crumpled onto the floor when we saw the little baby corgi outside the antiques store and he clutched at his heart awing for her.
He drove me back to my car because I had to park several blocks from our destination because I get panicky with all the one way streets and if I see an open spot in a back ally I will take it because it gives me time to park without worrying about oncoming traffic. He gives me a kiss and tells me he loves me; he does that first thing every morning you know, tells me good morning, I love you, I hope your day goes well! I usually look at the words sleepily and roll over but I appreciate it so much, those are the little things that make so much of a difference.
I love you.
I hope your day goes well.