“Okay, sorry,” he finally says.
“I’ll drive.” I grab my things and look at him over my shoulder. “Since you don’t know where you’re going yet.”
He doesn’t say much for the first few minutes in the car.
“I wasn’t home much in Miami to learn my area either, you know.”
“Really?” I ask, coming to stop at a red light.
“Yeah. Though, I guess I didn’t really have a reason to. But I do now.”
“You do?” I ask.
“Yeah, so we can go out to eat. Or I can run to the store if we need something… it’s different here. I want to know the area. I want to do things together.”
I ignore the pang in my chest at the fact that he won’t always be here. He travels all the time. Sometimes at the very last minute. That’s going to be hard to get used to, but… it’s something I agreed to deal with. Trey is a big change in my life all of a sudden. I’d been going strong with the same routine and expectations for years. And as difficult as it is sometimes to change my routine, I want to do it because I like being with him. I like the way I feel about him. I just like us together. So… I’m going to work on it.
I don’t like shopping. I hate stores. They’re loud, crowded, busy, and unpredictable. Typically I order everything I need online and have it delivered, or if it’s convenient, I’ll come by for them to bring it to my car. But I avoid going inside stores as much as possible.
I agreed to come with Trey because I want to do things with him, and if this is something he likes, I want to attempt it, too. And I don’t want him thinking I’m weird because I can’t handle going into a store. Icanhandle it, it just doesn’t feel good.
The stores today, on a Monday evening, are for some reason jam-packed. There are screaming children, crying toddlers, and customers who think they own the entire aisle.
I’m so focused on keeping myself calm that I barely register what Trey is asking me. Like which color towels will look better in his kitchen.
I can’t even remember what his kitchen looks like right now. I give him an answer though, just pointing automatically.
I can’t be mad at him for not seeing that I’m not having a good time since I’m purposely trying to hide that part to keep myself from spiraling, but I do hate, just a little bit, that he doesn't realize how hard this is for me.
Even though, again, it’s my own fault for not opening up to him about anything. Getting into my head makes me grouchy and I start to feel irritable, which is the last thing I want when we’re about to go out to eat.
“Are you almost done?” I ask when he’s looking at dark blue versus light blue decorations for the tree. He looks at me, brow furrowed, but then his face turns to concern.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“Just hungry.”
His eyes narrow slightly. He nods, tossing both packages into the cart and moving down the aisle. I follow him to the cash out area.
“If you want to wait in the car, I’m fine here.”
“I can handle this,” I snap.
His eyes widen. “I never said you couldn’t, Hudson, but you look a little stressed, and if you want to go to the car, go to the damn car.”
Something about his stern tone puts me in my place.
“Sorry,” I mutter, then move through the crowd like a zombie to the car.
Even though it’s freezing, I sit inside without the heat on. The cold air helps calm me and eventually I can breathe normally and think clearly and I feel like an asshole for snapping at him like that.
When I see him coming toward the car, I want to get out and help him, but now I’m ashamed, so I don’t.
One of the issues I’ve always had is being all too aware of my emotions, which makes me over think. I know when I’m embarrassed or ashamed or angry. And some may say that being able to name those emotions helps, but it doesn’t. It just makes me add up all the times I feel those things and keep an ongoing tab of how ridiculous I can be. Which wasn’t much before Trey because I was safe in my routine, but now… things are different.
Trey pops the trunk and puts everything inside. I sit in my seat without moving or saying a word. When he gets in, I expect an attitude, but that’s not what I get.
“Are you okay?” he asks. “And don’t bullshit me, Hudson. It’s okay if you’re not.”
