I woke up before you and got up after you to make us oatmeal while you were in the shower and got dressed. Then I went on a trip to see my parents. We were apart for a week and a day before I returned. It’s awkward, the same as when you left…we’re stuck… in a rut, you said. Some things have to change. So you gave up oatmeal. And now I don’t make us breakfast.
I’m sorry that I didn’t text you sorry for pocket-dialing you. I figured you knew who and why and what was happening. I’ll talk to you later and maybe mention it. But maybe not. Maybe we’ll never speak of the missed connection that was between you and my fumbling fingers.
I’m at Reynolds Optical replacing my glasses when I start thinking about why I need glasses in the first place. A long time ago I was hit in the eye with a stick. Now, I’m remembering about what happened, about who struck me, where he is, and if he remembers me.