Waffles

This post stems from a conversation I had with my younger sister in March 2011. Basically, she brought to mind this thought that I hadn't had since I first began talking to that guy who inspired my story "Morning."  And I literally mean since I first began talking to him.  

At the time, he was living in his parent's house, in the basement. His "place" was in disarray, he couldn't bring himself to unpack the shit from his actual apartment, where he lived with his ex-girlfriend.  And early in our talks, we spoke of breakfast and cooking.  I can cook.  I cannot bake.  And in talking about breakfast, I mentioned I hated eggs, which he likes.  He said he could make a mean batch of banana nut waffles.  So, a week or two after conversations began, I started picturing it.  

And I thought about it maybe once or twice in the first week or so we'd talked, and not again until last March with my sister.

Basically, she says she plotted marriages with each of these guys she was interested in. And I told I never thought of things like that. When in actuality, I had. I think the point of this was that we weren't living with them, but staying at the house for vacation or something along those lines.  

I took this from a private blog of mine, so elements from still exist, just not the guy's name.

Parts from the original post will be in purple.

I'd come up the stairs, where he was sitting in the kitchen talking to his mom in boxers and a t-shirt.  The putrid stench of eggs hung in the air, and glasses of orange juice sit on the table. He smiles at seeing me, and gets up from the table, and gives me a gentle kiss on the mouth.  I sit in what was his seat, and he asks me if I want anything.  I reply with an "I'm not sure."  He laughs, and suggests that he can make me some banana nut waffles.  I nod, indicating I am okay with that.  He sets to start prep for them.  I sit at the table, across from his mom, and I glance out the window at the summer leaves blowing in the wind.  He is hard at work, mixing batter, and pouring it into the waffle iron.  I sip at my water, and smile at him working diligently to make me breakfast.

"Do you want some bacon, babe?"

"No, I am fine with just the waffles." 

He flips out a finished waffle, and places it before me.  He brings over his plate with margarine and maple syrup.  And we eat breakfast.

I think when I pictured this, we were married.  But I never once planned a wedding.  I might of thought what it might be like if we were to get married, but I never put plans into motion.  I never thought of the color scheme, time of year (at the time I was very interested in getting married in August), or anything like that.  In that one respect, I kept myself from being hurt any further.  Because had I planned something like that, it would have destroyed me far worse than the breakup already had.

I hadn't thought of the banana nut waffles since we spoke of it all those months ago.

Huh...funny.