Remembering.

Sometimes it’s too hard, it’s too much. I’m not sure, it’s just…today. Today was really difficult. I should have stayed at home, I should have stayed in bed, I should have slept. I could have just ordered something, saved myself the hassle. It was so busy. It was a Wednesday morning but it was so busy. It took me ages to find this parking spot. I probably drove about three circles and contemplated using the disabled zone but I knew you wouldn’t have liked that. You always talk about how your mother used to do it and it embarrassed you so much but the place was crammed, as if everyone in London decided "hey let’s all go to the Vauxhall Tesco today."

It was a complete drag getting from the car to the entrance. The sliding doors kept drifting further away with every step I took. And it was raining. Not the rain you like, the heavy kind, but the sticky sheets of water kind, the kind that makes your face wet and soaks your clothes. Walking felt heavy. It always does now. You know I really hate how bright it is in there, the harsh lighting pushed heavily on my eyes. My eyes aren’t used to that kind of brightness, they’re more adjusted to gloomy skies and poorly lit bedrooms. I didn’t bother with a trolley, I only needed essentials. Some pasta, some canned vegetables, some toilet paper. Just to keep me going for a week, maybe two. It took me a while to find the right aisles even though I’ve been going to this place for years. I drifted through rectangular mazes, I almost tripped over an old woman’s walking cane.

I wished you were there, with a shopping list. I wished you were there and we could have argued about which wine to buy. I wished you were there so we could have laughed at this toothless toddler having a tantrum by boxes of chocolate. His little fists banged so hard on the tiles, his face turned purple and his mother was trying hard to pretend he didn’t belong to her. You would have found it funny. And I thought of you even more when I walked past packs of teenagers, huddled around the alcohol aisle. Nervous and excited as they conjured up schemes of how to buy their liquor. You would have found that funny too and we would have talked about ourselves, when we were younger, when we hadn’t met each other yet. It was at that point that I gave up on shopping. It was too difficult, every item had been placed there so that my mind formed some kind of memory of you. In a way I wanted to collect each one and take them home with me so I could have these bits of you forever, but then I realized that’s a pretty stupid idea and it would mean being stuck with your favorite kidney beans that I secretly hate but never had the heart to tell you.

The memories were becoming too heavy for my mind to carry and I ran back to my car, through the rained on parking lot. And now I’m here, sitting in my red Fiat, talking out loud, and fooling myself into believing you can actually hear what I’m saying. I’m such an idiot, if mum knew I was doing this she’s send my straight to Dr. Jenkins. Maybe I need to, I don’t know I don’t think so.

I miss you. I just fucking miss you. Everyday - even in supermarkets. And I wish you were still here. And now I’m going to stop talking because someone wants my parking space.