“I wish you would stop being like that.”

“Like what?”

“I wish you would stop letting all of those bad thoughts seep into your very fibers of existence. I remember when your lips would find themselves perched in a comfortable grin more days than not. Now your eyes scream about all of this pain that you kept hidden from me. I hate that I feel like this when I know how much everything that’s happened in your life is hurting you. Your inner turmoil causes my own to stew hotter too.”

“I’m sorry that I have more bad days than I used to. I’m sorry that you can’t make me happy like you want to. There’s nothing wrong with you. There’s just something wrong with me, and I’m finally seeing that now,” she said keeping her voice level and low.

I sighed.

“There’s nothing wrong with you. You can’t help that there are disgusting people out there that did disgusting things to you. It is taking every ounce of self-control and dignity that I have to not seek out your dumbass stepdad and end him for touching you when you were just a child. Let me catch that mother*** around and he’s dead.”

I searched into her deep brown eyes for anything that I could to show me that my words were being heard. She has this tendency of hearing me, but she almost doesn’t know how to be present anymore.

She stares back for several minutes without saying a word. There wasn’t even a flicker of acknowledgment from her stiffened face. God, I wish she didn’t freeze up like this every time I tried to break through this shell she’s been out of before.

“I hear what you’re saying, babe,” she says even though I’m positive she backed further away into her own head with every word I just said, “but at this point, it really doesn’t matter what happens.

I’m just tired of trying to force this facade that shit is okay when it’s not. I know I’m messed up, and you knew this when we met. I need you to just let me work through this,” she paused for a few seconds, ”if I even can.”

If it’s possible to feel my heart losing a few of its mechanical parts, I think that’s what I just felt. I don’t care about most things, but I care about her.

3 years later…

Flash forward to Tuesday, January 24, 2022. Trey’s Smokehouse was dead every day from 10am-2pm except for one faithful regular.

An attractive mid-twenty-something aged man came every Tuesday at 11:05 am like clockwork. He was about 5 foot 10 and stood with a slight slouch. He always wore clothing that seemed to match his short wiry black hair. Booth 15 near the east window belonged to this man.

I knew his order before I even had to ask. He always ordered a number 12 with exactly 4 slices of bacon, some extra fries, and a sweet tea. As I made my way over to his table I flashed him a huge smile.

“Let me stop you there! You don’t even have to ask me what I want, Bri, just bring me my usual. You know how I like it,” he called out to me before I had even made it halfway. His blue eyes had a way of making my heart flutter every time they met mine.

“Sure thing, sugar! You know me, I always have to ask.”

Not sure where I picked up this whole calling everyone “sugar” thing, but it had become part of my routine.

When I returned to the kitchen to put in the order for blue eyes, his plate was already sitting on the order counter. I scooped it up and turned right back around.

When I got to his table I could tell something was different about today, because he just said, “Thanks”, and didn’t leave any room for talk. He was our only customer at this time so I often found myself gazing in his direction while I was fiddling with the napkins that we kept stacked on table 2.

I’m sure he knew that I watched him, but he didn’t seem bothered by it. I always wondered about the extra fries that he insisted on having on his plate but never eating. It seemed like the only purpose they played was to be idly pushed around and smooshed up in the leftover ketchup and burger grease.

I had been told by some of the kitchen staff that he used to come here every Tuesday with a girl, but she eventually stopped coming with him. None of them had the heart to ask what had happened between them, and I especially wasn’t going to open Pandora’s box by asking myself.

I wondered about her a lot. I wondered what could have possibly happened for her to give up that beautiful man sitting by himself in booth 12.

Switch Frame

We made a promise that we would always go eat at Trey’s on Tuesdays at 11 am. That was a promise I am intent on keeping. No matter what is happening I know that that is the one consistent thing in my life.

I felt a little guilty for being dismissive with Bri today, but I didn’t really feel like talking to anyone today. The only person I really want to talk to is you, but I can’t even do that anymore.

I still order extra fries because I knew that you would always end up eating some of mine when you ran out. Not like you’re ever going to be here to eat them, but it’s become such a habit, and if I let that go I’d be getting more of you go with the fries.

I’m sure you’ll be happy to know that I’ve completely taken over your favorite booth. From where I sit I can hear the gulls you hate cawing outside.

I miss the way your face would crinkle up in anguish every time I told you your laugh sounded like a seagull. It must be a bummer to have something in common with something you hate so much.

Your shrill laugh is another thing I miss. I haven’t heard it in three whole years. Hard to believe it’s been so long.

I think you would’ve liked Bri. She reminds me of you in some ways. You both have vibrant personalities and neither of you knows when to stop talking.

I know, had you been here that would’ve been the exact moment when you would’ve punched me in the shoulder and then pouted for a few seconds before your smile would creep up on you. It always did that, even when you tried to fight it. That’s another thing I like about Bri. She smiles even when I know she doesn’t want to.

She also watches me sometimes which I know would make your blood boil, but it’s not like you’re even here to get jealous.

I know it’s dumb but I just can’t really talk to girls anymore because I’d feel like you were always watching me from beyond or something. I don’t believe in any of the beyonds, but I just can’t shake the thought of you watching me with someone else just like I couldn’t stand to hear about you being with other men.

Today would’ve been our seven year anniversary had you been here. I was thinking about ordering a slice of your favorite Hershey pie and only eating half of it to keep the tradition going.

But I think I’m ready to make new traditions now.