Because You Took the Coconut Cream Pie…

It was a hazy and humid Sunday afternoon. We were sitting outside at a little Seaside restaurant. There was a small collection of people, some in pairs and some in small groups. We both ordered the fish and chips. It was not disappointing. You are now  going on about the qualities of a narcissist, like the pseudo psychiatrist you saw yourself. I sat in silence. I generally enjoyed our conversations. You are intelligent and interesting to listen to. We have shared some deep conversations. I stare at the  table we are now sitting at; This table that you chose after the one that I chose did not have enough shade or enough breeze. I notice the table’s surface had deep dips , breaking up the evenness. I strategically  select a spot to set my beer down, to avoid tipping it over. The plastic table was green, now faded out from the rays of the sun. You  were still going on with your deconstruction of a narcissist. I would have remained silent. But then you said it. You said that the narcissist is someone who is incapable of saying that they are sorry. Despite my better judgment, and despite the risk of ruining this pleasant afternoon, I spoke up anyway.  Carefully choosing my words, speaking with in a calm voice, I asked you for an apology for the way you spoke to me in a fight we had 3 months before. You look at me ,incredulous, and said “oh, you’re going to bring that up now are you? “

You continue to feel no obligation to apologize. 3 months before, we made plans for a road trip an hour outside of the city. We would take my car. The plan was that you would take me out for a nice lunch and then go for a nice, leisurely walk at a popular destination in the local town. When I arrived at your place, I made the mistake of telling you that I had something to eat, a snack really, to hold me over until we got to our destination. You were miffed that I had eaten already and when we arrived , you decided you were going to go through a drive-through and order yourself something to eat. We went on our walk. There was awkward conversation. I was very quiet, and getting more upset at your overreaction to my having eaten prior to leaving for the trip, and admonishing myself for having expecting more from you. On the way back into the city, you made a quick errand to a meat shop which carried some local bacon and cold cuts that you favoured. I let you drive my car because sometimes I enjoy being the passenger. I was watching the gas gauge and knew the tank would be close to bone dry once back in the city. I requested that you turn into a gas station to fill the car with gas. You responded ,with overconfidence ,that I would have plenty of gas to get back into the city. With conviction , once more I request that you pull into a gas station. You continue to reassure me that won’t be necessary . Growing more irritated by the moment,  I stated that it would be a little enough for you to offer to put gas in my car. Then you turned on me. You accused me of ruining the afternoon with my mood. From past experience, I knew better than to think I was ever going to persuade you to see my side. Regardless , I tried once more to reason with you and that’s when you spitted out “I don’t give a fuck what you think”. For the rest of the drive into the city we remained in silence. As we got closer to your neighbourhood , you pulled into a random convenience store, got out of the car with the engine still running, grabbed your packages and hurried down the road in a strut. I felt nothing as I moved into the driver side. I was very low on gas but I was tired and decided to drive straight home.

Now here we are, 3 months later. We reconnected yesterday. It was a long work week. I reached out to you , despite the months of separation.  We both needed a fun evening to shake off the heaviness in the world , in life in general. Last night was a beautiful evening. We barbecued some chicken and made a kale Caesar salad.  We shared a joint , drank some wine and danced the evening away. The night turned into passionate lovemaking. The daybreak brought reality home.

Now here we sit. You look at me and then to my surprise,you give me your apology. You say you are sorry for hurting me with your thoughtless comment . However, it was not lost on me that you were not apologizing for your lack of common courtesy to offer to put gas in my car. But I accepted your apology , because in the 6 years of knowing you , it was the only apology you have ever offered me and that was progress. I do understand the (im)balance of this relationship and I think I do understand you.

The waiter approaches our table. She asks if we would like some dessert. After rhyming off a series of delectable choices,  I ordered the coconut cream pie -and two separate bills. Your only comment  was “HUMPH “.

Look at us. What to call this relationship, I do not know. In the beginning we tried to make it a couples relationship. But we fought every week , literally. We would break up, get back together, then break up again. This was our pattern. Eventually with months and then years of separation of not seeing each other  or speaking to each other. Occasionally you would reach out with a text to ask me  how I was doing. I don’t know what to call you: a friend, a lover. What I do know is that you are not “the forever one” to grow old with.

The sun was hotter than earlier and the air hung heavy.  We picked up our pace  to get back to the air-conditioned car.  You , once again in the driver side and me in the passenger side. We drove into the city and stopped  in front of your place. I got out to switch sides and I handed you the box of coconut cream pie. Not missing a beat , you reached for the box and said “thank you. I will really enjoy that. “ I gave you a hug.  We kissed, and we both agreed last night was fun. I watch you walk into your apartment. I headed back to my own place, feeling alright. I chose to give you the coconut cream pie because you know when I’m feeling down and sad. You never judge my circumstances in my life or my kids and you are there when I call and need warm, familiar arms to wrap around me. And because of our passion in our lovemaking. You know my body like you know your own and how to pleasure me. And I do love you. But you will never be “the one” because you took the coconut cream pie.