I went three days without thinking of you.
The song came on the radio and I thought of you.
And I realized it had been three days.
It was the milk. Another quart of spoiled milk. Nobody is there to drink it anymore and yet somehow I keep buying it. I get home from the store and unload the groceries and there it is. Another quart of milk.
I remember the first time you found out I didn't have milk. "Everyone has milk!" I don't. I don't drink milk, I told you. Why would I have milk? "For cooking at least!" I don't cook. I showed you my fridge. Leftover take out. Cream for my coffee. A few beers. A few sodas. That was it. No milk.
But you changed that. You had to have milk. So when I bought my coffee, my cream, my beer and my soda I bought your milk. And somehow even though I don't need it, I keep buying it.
And then I throw it away when it goes bad.
It seemed longer. When the song started. I thought it must have been longer.
But the milk. I remembered the milk.
Three days. Not too shabby though.
Soon I will probably make it a whole week.
Then I cried.
I had gone three days.