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With her gone, I return to my recliner and turn off the TV. The noise is annoying and I don’t really care to watch anything. The silence and stillness is blissful. I feel terrible that I’m happy Brittany is gone, but I am. Since we started seeing each other, I haven’t exactly had a ton of time to myself. Maybe her being gone for the weekend will give me some time to recoup. Not that she’s the reason why I’m not getting better or anything like that, but it is harder with her around.
Before, with either my dad or my ex-wife, I didn’t share what was going on with my depression. I kept it all to myself. Brittany not only has me sharing some of that with her, but she’s needed support from me more than my ex-wife ever did. I don’t mind it at all, but I didn’t realize just how much I didn’t provide those things in my previous relationships. It’s an adjustment. A hard one to deal with when I’m still adjusting to moving, my new job, and a new relationship in general.
Tired and done with today, I head to my room, take my pills, and climb into bed.
Me: Make it to all of your classes?
Brittany: Yes
Me: Good to hear.
I was worried that she would have a repeat of yesterday; I’m glad she didn’t. Today has been ridiculously slow, and I’m not looking forward to what I’m about to do. Go grocery shopping. Does any adult enjoy this? I should really see if any of the stores around here have that service where they do the grocery shopping for you and you can pick it up or they deliver it.
My phone rings as I grab a cart.
“Can’t text me?” I ask Brittany as a way of answering.
“Maybe I just wanted to hear your voice.” She sounds good, so that’s a plus. “How was your day?”
“Uneventful. Y
ours?”
“Way better than yesterday.” She’s quiet for a moment. “So, Bec and I are about to go out to eat, and I wanted to know if you wanted to come with us.”
“I would, but I’m grocery shopping.” Not to mention, it’s one thing to be dating Brittany since the college is aware of it. It would be different for me to hang out with her also-a-college-student friend.
“Oh, okay. Maybe another time.”
“Enjoy your girl time, all right?”
“Okay,” she says, and I’m relieved that she doesn’t sound disappointed. “I’ll talk to you later then.”
We say goodbye and hang up. It seems I chose the perfect time to come; there aren’t a lot of people here. My trip goes fairly well and I unload and put away the groceries when I get home. I’ve been alone for a few years now. I was alone for a period of time before I met my ex-wife, Faith. It’s something I’m used to. Usually, it’s no big deal. I don’t mind it and it’s simply something people deal with. However, it’s always harder to manage myself when I’m alone with my thoughts.
I should have accepted Brittany’s invitation. I really need to get some friends here, too. An hour after I arrive home, I find myself staring at the TV screen. My mind is blank. Annoyed for spacing out, I get up, hook my phone up to play some music off a local radio app, and start cleaning the house. If I’m going to zone out, then I might as well be productive. I need to do my best to stay out of the sinkhole that is my depression this week and next. What fun will a romantic weekend with Brittany be if I’m not in a good mood? I’m crossing my fingers that we’ll both be okay next weekend.
While I clean, I sing the words to whatever song comes on. I’m mopping the kitchen floor when I hear a giggle. I turn to see Brittany standing in my house. The music must’ve covered up her entrance.
“Are you singing Justin Bieber, Trace?” Her laughter runs free as she clutches her stomach with one hand while trying to cover her smile with the other.
I shrug, smiling a little at hearing her laugh. “I was just singing whatever plays.” Ignoring her giggles, I continue to mop. She turns the music down, and I ask, “What are you doing here?”
“I felt like you needed me. My Trace-senses were tingling.”
We both laugh. “How was dinner with Rebecca?” I ask, deciding not to shed any light on whether her senses were correct.
“Good. I got to meet her boyfriend, Dustin. He seems really nice and they’re adorable together.”
Though there’s no disappointment or annoyance in her tone that I basically bailed on a double date, I still feel bad. I falter with mopping as I realize it’s a very good thing I did bail. There’s a good possibility that the Dustin she’s speaking of is the same Dustin who has visited my office a few times this semester. What are the odds that there is another Dustin at the university who is also dating someone named Rebecca? How awkward would that be? To show up for dinner with her best friend and to see someone who’s been in my office for counseling?
“Sorry I missed it,” I say, finishing up. I lean the mop against the wall and walk over to her.
“It’s okay,” she replies. I wrap my arms around her and kiss her temple. She tilts her head back. “Does this mean I was right?”
“I’ve kinda gotten used to having you here, so I was going a little stir crazy,” I admit.
“Then I’m glad I came.” Brittany takes a big, deep breath. “So, I have an idea.”
