He set the bottle down in front of me and smiled.
“Did I get the right kind this time?”
I confirmed for him that he had – he had gotten me a kind of scotch that I liked to drink, not what others told him was good.
He was happy to hear it, then went into the other room to do something else.
I sat there looking at the bottle. A bottle of scotch that SB and I have shared many, many times together. We would sit there on his couch; sipping this good scotch. We would laugh. We would cry. We would tell stories. We would cuddle and kiss and grope in between. We would curl up under a blanket and watch movies. We would sip this scotch, and enjoy each other as we shared things we wouldn’t maybe share with others.
For me, that is what this bottle contains…..
No longer did it contain just a good scotch……it was so much more…..it IS so much more.
After a long debate with myself, I finally poured myself a glass of the scotch. I poured it over an ice cube that I rinsed before pouring the scotch. I was halfway through that act before I realized what I was doing. Funny how one can follow ritual without thinking about it.
I sipped that scotch. I felt all of those times we had together.
And I tried to ignore the tears…..