I've written about this before. April fifteenth is the day he'd asked me to be his girl. April sixteenth is the day he broke my heart. April seventeenth would've been an anniversary of sorts. April nineteenth is the last day I saw him. And these damned numbers are EVERYWHERE. I really hate it when it they're tied to the month, too. I LOATHE the coincidence. I hate how desperate I've become to lessen its significance. How futile those attempts have been.

Eighteen years ago yesterday I went on the last date with the only man I've ever loved--three days after he'd broken my heart; nine days before he'd crushed it. Would that I could know love. Would that a man could love me.

I lived in San Antonio and worked as the merchandise supervisor at Borders. It was one of those rare Fridays that I didn't have to close--not sure how that happened, actually. He'd called me the night before to make sure we were still on. We went to a Greek restaurant.

And then we went to Amy's at Quarry Market for ice cream. And then he drove me by his parents' house (again)... because he wanted me to meet his folks, and I was willing, but he was afraid to introduce me... and then we went back to his place, only this time I didn't stay for awhile.

But I didn't leave right away. I stood in the parking lot, smoked a cigarette. Decided I wanted a Dr. Pepper. He kept a stash in the refrigerator for me, even though he didn't drink them. He smiled, was happy to see that I'd come back, had thought I'd changed my mind. But I hadn't. I didn't come in, made him get a can out of the fridge for me. That's the last time I saw him.

The strongest memory from that day: when I'd gotten to his apartment, I'd told him I wasn't touching him. He had a goldfish named Icarus. I'd set my things on the counter beside the bowl. We were getting ready to go, and I'd stopped to get my stuff and was staring at the fish, floating the water. I thought of Greek mythology...

I thought, You've flown too close to the sun, Jennifer. And right then, he stood behind me, inches away. If I'd leaned back a fraction, we would've been touching. Those chills you get? They were a flood from head to toe, and I'd wondered if he felt them, and if he did, why they didn't matter.

I'd wanted to weep. Wanted to say I can't do this and leave. I should've. But I tried to play it cool, like a goddamned fool.

How I Feel About Dating

I Can't Do It, Captain. I Don't Have the...

Oh, yeah, that's a big fat F for me with regard to quarantining. Two days. That's the best I've been able to do so far.

Friday, April Third. I had to go to my place of employment and collect my paycheck, then take it to the bank (but I chose the one inside a grocery store because I needed to drop some clothes off at a cleaners and pick up a package at my box, and the grocery store was in the same shopping center as both of those places). So I went to pick up the box, then I went to the grocery store to deposit my check (I did wear a mask), then ordered pizza from Papa John's (also in the same center... a small pepperoni for the gals working The Shipping Store, where my box is, that day and a small pineapple with bell peppers for me--I remembered it was Friday and not to have meat), then I went to the dry cleaners to get bags for my clothes (from the store room--too many to wash, and I didn't want to wash them), then I picked up my pizza and took the girls theirs, then I sorted my clothes and took them to the cleaners. And then I went home.

Saturday, April Fourth. Mom didn't want to cook, so I picked up food from Zanti's Italian Cucina (usually delicious... kind of lacking this time... probably because it was take out), and I was out of Coke, so I hit a gas station on the way home and grabbed some of that and some Aleve PM because sleep is a beautiful thing.

This will last about a week... maybe ten days

Sunday, April Fifth. I ran out of Peace Tea Green Tea. I went to two gas stations to grab some. Which I would not have had to do had I kept my subscription to this on Amazon and had it delivered to my home instead of my box (but to be honest, I would MUCH rather things be delivered to my box).

Monday, April Sixth. I got another package at The Shipping Store--food from Nutrisystem (which I haven't been able to do because our microwave has been busted), and I thought it was the frozen food and had to be picked up today. It was not. It could've waited. I could've called first. I didn't think of that until just this very second.

SO... I am going to do my damnedest to STAY IN THIS HOUSE until Friday, when I get paid again and will NEED to get that money in the bank. Wish me luck.

Quarantine

They say stay home. I’ve not been following orders. I have been one of those miscreants who has run errands, albeit minimal. So I am going to stay inside my home for fourteen days. I will not leave the house.

Day One: Five Loads of Laundry

Day Two: When the World Lets You Stay in Bed All Day