Remind Me

Keys

decided I wanted to write things that reminded me of you. My therapist says that to be doing so it could help me. I closed my eyes as I sat down on the couch the dread and fear coming around me. I, so want to remember good times. Taking deep breaths centering the storm that was coming as I tried to get comfortable. I looked around for anything that would help remind me of you.

My eyes fixated on the front door. There by the front door of our house was my key chain. On my key chain was the key to our very first apartment. You always thought me keeping the key was rather weird. But only if you knew how amazing that key has meant to me.

"Look, Abby, we did it. We moved into our first place."

You picked me up. I felt your warm breath on the nape of my neck as you hugged me. I smiled as the excitement bubbled. We had talked about doing this for months, and finally it happened.

"Let's go in, " I said as you let me down.

We each grabbed a box out of the back of your trunk. We had little, but we had each other and that's what mattered. The yearning to touch our key came over me again. I went over and grabbed them; I could still feel the etching of our initials you put on the key. You had spent all night one night doing this so I could keep the key. You knew me even then, and my small things. Whenever I got nervous, my hand would move to the key so I could rub it.

The house now is quiet, not like the laughter and long night chats we would have in our apartment. The quiet is deafening. You would wonder what happened to me if you saw this.

"Abby, do you think we will grow old together?"

You always asked me that late at night. And every time I would wrap my arms around you and tell you it would be the perfect thing to happen. We talked about advancing our careers, about babies and pets. Those nights my head on your chest looking out the window at the star filled sky. That was exactly how I wanted to spend the evenings of our golden years together.

That apartment was where you asked me to be your everything one spring night. I came home late from work to you, having made a romantic getaway in our living and dining rooms. There were enough candles that you could trick an owl into believing it was still the day. You had set the table and pulled out the best china we had, which was plastic bowls and gas station cups. That evening we ate ramen and drank boxed wine.

You had told me you had gotten a cheesecake for us to share and I grabbed our dirty dishes to grab two spoons and the cake. When I came back from the kitchen in the dining room, there you were on one knee with a small black box in your hand. My breath caught in my throat as you opened the box and asked me, "Will you marry me."

I couldn't say yes fast enough.

_______

Thank you so much  for reading my short story. I also have a author page on the internet.