Monday, March 26, 2018

Sour gifts.

I had bought her the 30th anniversary edition of INXS' Kick for her birthday. It was an import, so I'd pre-ordered it months before, but had already moved out before I could give it to her. I sent her a text letting her know where it was—I didn't want her to think I'd forgot her birthday—and she texted back that it was one of the most depressing gifts she'd ever received. Clearly had I been there and present and given it to her in person it would've been a completely different situation. But I didn't. And I regret that.

Yesterday I discovered it buried underneath a bunch of Blu-rays and realized she didn't even take it with her. That was pretty depressing.

It's the stuff she left behind that stings. She knows I will never eat "classic onion pierogis." And that I would never open the Orange Hostess Cupcakes I bought her because I knew she loved them. But she did take all the clips for the potato chip bags, and all the magnets off the fridge. And I could've still used those. Oh well.

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