Thursday, December 3, 2015

Three Days...

I went three days without thinking of you.

Three days.

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.

Three days.

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.

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