it’s almost 7pm
and it’s going to get dark soon
and it looks like it’s going to rain
and my brother sent me money for ice cream
because he loves me and,
i guess, because he feels a little bit sorry for me,
so damn it,
i’m gonna get ice cream.

as soon as i walk in,
i’m overwhelmed.
i can buy anything i want.
anything?
i’m not thinking of buying for two people,
not thinking if you’ll like this
or if you’ll eat that,
i can just buy
whatever i want.
as it turns out,
that’s too many options.

before i panic, i find myself practically sprinting,
subconsciously,
to the pasta aisle,
obviously.
they start playing some
stupid Michael Bublé cover
of fucking Home or whatever
and it makes me cry.
jesus.
i feel like a middle aged mom in a movie
going through a divorce,
crying at a fucking grocery store.

i make my way to the frozen aisle,
for the ice cream,
obviously,
and i finally find my favorite ice cream
but they don’t have have it in a pint size
and the quart is EIGHTEEN FUCKING DOLLARS
which is a ROBBERY
and i will NOT be paying that much for ICED GODDAMN CREAM,
but i swallow my pride
and i buy it anyway since my brother sent money for
specifically
this purpose, and i feel silly and guilty and
good.

the rest of my cart consists of
frozen pizza,
mozzarella sticks,
soups,
granola bars,
blueberry eggo waffles,
and peanut butter.
when i put it all on display on the conveyor belt
it looks like a six year old stole their mom’s credit card and went wild.
the total is eighty dollars.
jesus.

as soon as i get back in the car
my phone blares with a
tornado warning.
i can never remember which is which,
but i think this is the bad one.
i’m only five minutes from home
so i don’t worry,
but i do think about the last time
when i got caught in the tornado warning
and i came home crying
and you held me
and i said i was so scared of dying
and you said
“you’re safe now.”

i miss feeling safe.

i think about the fear i felt,
of dying,
except it wasn’t that, really,
it was the fear of dying
and leaving you alone to grieve.
it was the devastating heartbreak
that i would give anything
to make sure you didn’t feel.

now that you’re gone,
no one would miss me the way that
i was so afraid of.

the thought is fleeting.
though it fights to come back.
of course,
i think,
everyone would miss you,
think about your friends,
your mom,
your sister.
but losing the love of your life?
your best friend?
your home?
that’s the thing i was most afraid of.

funny.
here we are,
doing it to ourselves.
now that it’s already happened,
what else do i have to fear?

i know it’s not true.
i know i just need to eat
or sleep
or maybe have a damn drink,

but,
jesus.

it’s my birthday.
and i miss you so bad.