I was churlish and snippy toward him. Nothing he did was right. I think this is not because of anything he did or said, but because I do not listen to my own body’s signals. I wait too long to eat till hunger overtakes me. I make myself do work that could wait. I expect too much. I make myself busy as though trying to earn some sort of merit badge.
And so we go out to the library, and I get lost in books and music. Just like that I am put in my place.
I pick up the book, The Storied Life of A. J. Fikry by Gabrielle Zevin, and on the first page I read this:
come on, sweetheart
let’s adore one another
before there is no more
of you and me.
Walking out the library doors, he leans over and says, “I’ll carry your books home from school.”
And my heart melts.