#99
I told her, I didn’t know what it was like.
Me: I don’t know what it’s like. I’m not sure I can.
She stopped me mid-sentence to let me know it’s ok. That she didn’t mind.
Her: I don’t mind. I know it’s hard to grasp.
We had finished eating, we still had half a bottle of wine left.
Her: Let’s take it to the lake.
The water was calm. You could almost see yourself in the reflection. The moonlight.
We drank from the bottle. She brought a candle in her jacket. I had a lighter. I smoked.
Me: I know that you thought something else about me.
Her: It doesn’t matter, really. Believe me.
Later, back at home, the dishes clean, drying on the rack, I put the kettle on - tea. She patted her face with the lotion she likes, the one that smells nice. She flosses. Pees. I bring the tea to bed, but we both fall asleep before we can drink it.