Knuckles white on the steering wheel she drove aimlessly through the city. She had just pulled out of yet another restaurant parking lot where she’d done the exact same thing……. She’d walked in, looked over their menu, tried to imagine the tastes of the different food and decipher if it was what she wanted, but it just wasn’t.
What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she chose? It’s just dinner.
Tears began to stream slowly down her face. She took in a deep breath and her body shuddered as she fought back the sobs that were trying to come out. It wasn’t really about not being able to chose a restaurant now was it? No, no of course it wasn’t.
She pulled into the parking lot of a popular sushi restaurant. Sushi wasn’t really what she wanted either, but she was growing weary from driving to and from different places as she had been doing for over an hour. It was growing late so she checked to make sure the sushi restaurant would still be open long enough for her not to feel rushed.
Sitting at her table she pulled the baseball cap lower to shield her bloodshot eyes. She attempted to play off her silent crying as the sniffles of allergies. This restaurant was obnoxiously dark and the type that played house music and served over priced rolls.
Her sushi didn’t seem to fill the empty spot that was demanding attention. Maybe she should try a glass of wine? That didn’t seem to do it either. She should have known that from her whiskey induced attempt to quiet the incessant roar the night before. “It doesn’t really matter anyway,” she told herself. It was smart to order the whole bottle being half price wine night as it were.
So there she sat there in the farthest corner of trendy eatery with a ball cap pulled low crying into her half price wine. “How will this pain ever stop?” she wondered. It seemed that anything could trigger her.
Showering earlier to prepare for dinner, welding had crossed her mind. She had driven him to a welding school. He had said he needed help, needed direction. She’d found the best welding school in the city and taken him. The program was perfect for him. He’d been so excited. The first certification was only $1500.
She’d promised to pay for his education were he to be denied grant money from the state. Why had they taken so long to see if he was eligible? She’d wanted him to step up and take charge, to make the appointment with the counselor. Then came his accident…. he had a long recovery. After that….. she’d just lost focus. Why had she done that?
If he’d been able to attend the school, would that have changed everything? Would it have given him the hope he needed to go on? There was so many things she could have done differently. So. Many. Things.
Dessert was served. Chocolate wantons with decadent cinnamon ice cream. She just sat and stared at it. As she chewed she felt no pleasure. How can one feel excitement through their taste buds when the heart that pumps blood to them barely beats?
Never, ever, ever had one person wanted a redo so badly in their entire life as this sad girl sitting in a restaurant crying into her half priced wine and listlessly chewing her acclaimed desert.