I don’t do this very often, but it has been nine days since I last posted, and I’m not only feeling guilty about the time I’ve been away, but my brain is exhausted with all that I’ve absorbed at my residency for school. So I’ve decided to take a risk. I’m going to post a first draft of something I wrote while in my second nonfiction workshop. We had just read a few short stories and discussed the sentences that just seemed to jump right off of the page. We were instructed to take a sentence and try to imitate it. Imitate great writers? Yeah, that makes me nervous. But anyway, one of the stories I read was from a collection of essays by Abigail Thomas. I liked it because the language was so plain, yet the sentiment was so strong. I wanted to challenge myself on this one, and I really, really liked how it turned out. I don’t remember what it was exactly, but I think her sentence was something like, “He still likes hamburgers.” Here goes nothing!
His favorite food is Pho. He likes his hamburgers with only mustard. He hates mayonnaise. I may have fallen in love with him the moment he told me that.
“Mayonnaise? Yuck,” he said. “Mayonnaise is fucking disgusting.” Here we were, two creatures searching for partnership on this lonely planet, only to find another soul to not eat mayo with.
We already decided to write our wedding vows. I never thought I’d marry a man who’d be willing to sit, ponder, ruminate on why, just why I am the woman he chose and what, just what he vows to me on the day we face our families, face our friends and commit our lives to each other.
But here he is. Here is the man who introduced me to his Pho; here is the man who corageously ate oysters and sushi because that’s what I like. Here is the man who buys me flowers. “Epic” lilies of the valley on our first date; a multipack of peony bulbs to share: one for each generation- my mother, my mom mom and myself; a bouquet of daisies for my grandmother on her 100th birthday, even though he’d never met her and we’d only been dating one week; sunflowers on a day I couldn’t even recognize myself, to remind me of my nickname: Little Miss Sunshine; a plant when he visits me at school so I can absorb the beauty the entire time I’m here, and I can remember the residency when I plant them in the warm earth upon returning home.
You walk around the world since birth meeting people, observing their quirks, their personalities, how they treat the people around them. And then one day, if you’re lucky, you stumble upon a person who, well– doesn’t complete you and doesn’t make you a better person and doesn’t need you– but someone who recognizes you, someone who sees that something in you that doesn’t exist in the sea of others.
And if you’re really lucky; you’ll see that something in them too.