I pulled into the grocery store
parking lot fairly early on Saturday.
I’d ended up in bed shortly after I got home from my date, which led to
an early wake up. I figured I should
take advantage of that and hit the store early to avoid the crowds.
Apparently I wasn’t the only one
with that idea, and the parking lot was much fuller than I anticipated. Oh well, it was definitely better than it
would be later on. I was about to get
out of my car when I saw an SUV go past that looked exactly like Kevin’s. Same make and model, same color,
everything. I froze, not even sure if it
was his. My eyes followed it until it
drove out of the parking lot, and I was relieved. Then I realized I hadn’t even made a grocery
list.
I pulled out my phone and opened my
notes app, but I couldn’t remember what I needed or even what I had been
thinking about cooking this week. As I
stared at the blank note on my phone, my eyes filled with tears. I tried to fight them, but eventually I
dropped my phone into my lap, covered my face with my hands, and leaned my head
against the steering wheel, giving into the full on ugly crying.
Once I had regained some semblance
of control, I fumbled with my phone and dialed a number. Chelsea answered on the second ring. “Jenna!
I was just thinking about you.”
“I’m a mess,” I managed before I
started crying again.
“Jenna, what’s wrong?” Chelsea
asked, sounding concerned. “Hey,
breathe. Calm down. Tell me who to kill.”
“No one. Kevin.
The asshole I went out with last night.
I don’t even know,” I choked out between sobs and hiccupping breaths.
Chelsea let me calm down and then
she said, “What did Kevin do now? Who is the asshole you went out with last night? And why are you crying?”
“I’m crying because I forgot to
make a grocery list,” I said bitterly.
“Well that seems like a very
un-Jenna-like reason to cry,” Chelsea pointed out.
“I don’t even know who I am
anymore,” I grumbled, sniffling and rubbing furiously at my eyes. “I’m sitting in the grocery store parking lot
sobbing because I forgot to make a list and can’t remember what I need, I
almost panicked when I saw an SUV that looked like Kevin’s, and I’m going on
all these terrible dates with ridiculous people from that stupid dating site
you made me join, and I don’t actually even want
to date anyone! See? I’m a fucking mess.”
“Jenna, you’ve been divorced for
about 10 minutes. I think you’re
supposed to be a mess.” I didn’t say
anything. I didn’t know what to
say. I just wanted to go home. “Look, when my mom died, it was really bad
for awhile. And then it got better. But even after it got better, some days were
awful for no particular reason. I’d just
be going about my business, thinking I was fine, and then grief would punch me
in the face. The next day I’d be okay
again. I imagine it’s similar when you
get divorced.”
“Yeah,” I agreed softly. “That sounds about right.”
“Look, groceries can wait. Go home, go for a run, take a long shower, do
something relaxing. Try again
tomorrow. You’ll feel better then.” I knew I could count on Chelsea to get me
calmed down and pointed in the right direction.
I thanked her and we hung up, then I started my car and drove home.
I considered canceling my date
with Mike that night, because I still was just feeling a bit off, but I hoped
that being social with someone whose company I enjoyed would help. I realized my mistake halfway through dinner
when Mike gently asked if I was okay.
“Yeah,” I said, giving him what I hoped was a bright smile. “I just didn’t sleep well last night, I’m a
little tired.” The lie rolled off my
tongue before I could even stop to think, and I added guilt to my tumultuous
list of current emotions.
“Well, I won’t keep you out too
late, then,” he said, smiling kindly. I
felt even worse for lying. Not that the
lie I told was a big deal, but I hated that it happened so easily.
We finished dinner and Mike offered
to take me home. Once we got
there--against my better judgment--I invited him in. We put on a movie and cuddled on the couch
and I was feeling better until he brushed my hair back from my face and kissed
my forehead lightly. To my horror, I
started to cry again.
“Whoa,” Mike said, surprised. “Jenna, what’s wrong?”
“I don’t know,” I sniffled. “I’m just having one of those days, I
guess. This is so weird.” Mike looked like he had no idea what to do
with me, but he rubbed my back while I got it together. Finally, I looked at him shyly with eyes that
were probably bloodshot as hell. “You
know, I’m really sorry.” He started to
interrupt me and shrug off my apology, but I shook my head. “No, I think you’re really great, but I
shouldn’t be dating. I’m not ready, this
is a mess. I think maybe you should
go. I’m sorry.”
Mike nodded. “Sure,” he said. He looked confused and I felt terrible. He carefully untangled himself from me and
stood. At the door, he turned and looked
at me awkwardly for a few seconds before he said, “So I guess I probably won’t
see you again.”
“Yeah, I guess not,” I replied, no
less awkward.
He looked around and shrugged. “Well, enjoy your house, then.” And then he left. I slumped back into the corner of the couch
and cried some more. I’d cried more
today than I had total since the day I found the condom wrapper in Kevin’s
pocket.
I stayed slumped into the couch for
a really long time. I had no real idea
how long it was, I just stayed there until I realized how uncomfortable I was,
then I carefully untangled myself. I
pulled my laptop out, logged into the dating site, and deleted my profile. Then I walked over to my purse, fished out
the cocktail napkin with last night’s waiter’s name and number on it, ripped it up, and threw
it away. Satisfied by my destruction of
anything related to dating, I went upstairs and got in bed, not even bothering
to get undressed.