Bed Bath and Beyond

I usually go grocery shopping on Saturdays. Yesterday (Saturday) was unbelievably gorgeous for a January day in North Dakota: 40 degrees! What a wonderful relief from the minus zero temps we've had all winter! I didn't want to waste such a glorious day shopping!
Instead, I stayed inside and played on the internet all day.
I have such a hard time motivating myself to get up off my ass with no Bram here to bring along.

Nick is traveling to South Dakota this week, leaving me without a car, so this morning I figured I better haul myself to the grocery store. I stepped out onto the porch--and it was another beautiful day! I decided to go to Michael's and look for gilt markers to use on my Tartuffe fans. Right next to Michael's is a Bed Bath and Beyond, one of my favorite stores. I decided that after I left the art store I'd drop in to the housewares store.
I haven't been to this Michael's here in Grand Forks, so I went in and started my fact-finding tour using my usual OCD tendencies: I began at the first aisle to my left and proceeded up and down each aisle, carefully scanning the wares.

As I moved past the halfway point in the store, I found I was humming along with the music being played over the speakers and I remembered how you and I used to sing out loud to one another when we were shopping together. It made me smile. And then I wrapped that thought in a tiny little box, put a bow on it, and stashed it in a little closet in my head marked "Things it hurts to think about." As I was closing that door in my brain, a new song came over the speakers: Duncan Sheik's "I Am Barely Breathing."
That door I was attempting to shut crashed open and all my carefully stacked and ribboned boxes fell out. All I could think, feel, hear, smell was BRAM. Bram. Bram loved this song. He sang it often. We listened to this CD practically nonstop while we were dating. Bram. Bram.
The song came to an end and I realized I was standing stock still in the middle of Michael's twisting my hands together so hard my fingers were aching.
I was not crying and congratulated myself on the fact. I bought my gilt markers and left.
And there stood Bed Bath and Beyond. And I stepped toward the entrance. That's when the tears started and I told myself to grow up, I told myself out loud to grow up and go on inside, but honestly all I could think of was we two window shopping in this stupid store and singing out loud to one another until people stepped away from us. And I remember you buying me ridiculously overpriced kitchen gadgets because I had learned to cook for you and found I enjoyed it and kitchen gadgets made us both happy...

Today I stood outside of a Bed Bath and Beyond, weeping and berating myself out loud for not being able to make myself go in.

And I still cannot understand why you have gone.