Parking Lot
How I thought then:
I don’t need roses and I don’t need scenery. I’m not one of those girls. I can get by with very little. Other girls got their nails done; they listened to pop music; they raved and did drugs and their boyfriends took them to nice dinners with a view of the city. I can be happy with anything, and he was my best friend besides.
He asked me to marry him in the parking lot of a mall.
He began to get down on one knee, his face strangely twisted, and mouth agape. He was nervous; he could even vomit. I should find this adorable. Why don’t I?
The word I should have said was boiling in me, but I put the lid on that word and I accepted my fate, what God had put in front of me. Yes, this is the next logical step. He loves me and no one else will love me like this. In a year from now, he would remind me of this often, especially after hurting me.
I should have said no.
I rewrote this scene.
He took me to the Willowbrook Mall parking lot. “Remember the deep conversations we had hear last winter?” I had known him for one year. I did remember them, but I knew they weren’t conversations in the literal sense - it was mostly me listening, him talking. Still, it did not bother me. I could always get by without having my needs met, because they weren’t needs anyway. I didn’t need anything from my partner.
I don’t need roses and I don’t need scenery. I’m not one of those girls. I can get by with very little. Other girls got their nails done; they listened to pop music; they raved and did drugs and their boyfriends took them to nice dinners with a view of the city. I can be happy with anything, and he was my best friend besides.
He asked me to marry him in the parking lot of a mall.
He began to get down on one knee, his face strangely twisted, and mouth agape. He was nervous; he could even vomit. I should find this adorable. Why don’t I?
The word I should have said was boiling in me, but I put the lid on that word and I accepted my fate, what God had put in front of me. Yes, this is the next logical step. He loves me and no one else will love me like this. In a year from now, he would remind me of this often, especially after hurting me.
I should have said no.
I rewrote this scene.
He took me to the Willowbrook Mall parking lot. “Remember the deep conversations we had hear last winter?” I had known him for one year. I did remember them, but I knew they weren’t conversations in the literal sense - it was mostly me listening, him talking. Still, it did not bother me. I could always get by without having my needs met, because they weren’t needs anyway. I didn’t need anything from my partner.