Dave sat alone at the bar. He clutched a Grasshopper drink that was slowly thawing out. He had already taken a couple of sips, but he simply couldn’t finish it. Mint and alcohol were a bad combination to his way of thinking.
He thought about Mick and sighed.
I want him to love me. I want him to be deliriously happy when I enter the room. I want his very soul to sing out when I say hi to him.
He sighed again.
I think I’m expecting too much.
Mick isn’t like that. He isn’t a raging romantic. He just takes what he wants and that’s that. And I’m stuck settling for that.
But I want so much more.
I want happy nights together, lounging in the grass and trying to count all of the stars. I want teasing touches and flirtatious looks. I want whispered words of love when I’m not expecting them. Or even asking for them.
I don’t know.
I want to believe that he loves me. I want to believe that he feels something for me. Anything for me. I’ll even take affection.
Simple, lukewarm affection would be enough.
But I don’t know. I don’t know if he even likes me anymore. He yells at me too much. He pushes me away too much.
I wonder why he even keeps me around.
Dave sat up straighter. “What if?”
What if we move in together?
“Maybe that’s it! Maybe that will solve all of our problems. Maybe that’s why he’s so unhappy with me. It isn’t me. It’s because we don’t see each other enough.”
If I move in with him, we’ll see each other every day. I’ll be there when he wakes. I’ll be able to make him breakfast.
“Ohh, I’ve never made breakfast for anyone before, but I’m sure I can manage.”
His smile grew.
Then, he’ll be happy with me. He’ll love me. I know he’ll love me the same way I love him. We’ll finally be happy.
Dave’s heart zinged at the mental image of Mick loving him. “I can’t wait to see him again. I’ll ask him then and he’ll say yes. Of course, he’ll say yes.”
He took a small sip of his drink. “And we’ll be so happy together.”