Things That Aren’t About the Thing #2
It Was Just Shopping
Scene
It had taken her a while to decide to go.
The sales were everywhere. Black Friday, limited time, last chance.
He had mentioned it in passing that morning.
“You should go,” he said. “Get something for yourself.”
She didn’t answer right away.
“You never buy anything,” he added. So she went.
The stores were crowded, loud, picked over.
She moved through them slowly, touching things, putting them back. Checking prices. Telling herself she didn’t really need anything. Still, she chose a few things.
Carefully.
Nothing too much. Nothing unnecessary. Something she could justify.
When she got home, she set the bag down on the table.
“I found a couple of things,” she said.
He looked over.
“What did you get?”
She took them out one by one. A sweater. Something small. Practical.
He nodded, not really reacting.
Then, almost casually:
“And for me?”
She paused.
“What?”
“For me,” he repeated. “You didn’t get anything?”
She blinked.
“I thought this was for me.”
The shift was immediate.
“Oh,” he said, a short laugh under his breath. “Right. Of course.”
“I mean…you said….”
“I didn’t say don’t think about anyone else,” he cut in. “I just said go.”
She stood there, still holding one of the bags.
“I didn’t know you wanted something.”
He shrugged.
“I shouldn’t have to spell everything out.”
The words settled in the room.
“I just thought….” she started, then stopped.
“What?” he said.
“That it was okay to just buy something for myself.”
“It is,” he replied quickly. “Don’t twist it.”
“I’m not twisting anything.”
“Then why does it sound like I’m the bad guy for expecting something small?”
She shook her head slightly.
“You didn’t say anything before.”
“And that’s the problem,” he said. “You only think about what’s said directly. Never anything beyond that.”
She looked at him.
The sweater still in her hands.
“I thought this was something you told me to do for myself,” she said quietly.
He scoffed.
“Yeah,” he said. “Clearly.”
She placed the things back into the bag slowly.
The excitement, small as it had been, already gone.
Somewhere between the store and this moment,
it had changed.
It’s never really about the shopping.
Or the sale.
Or what was -or wasn’t- bought.
It’s about how something can be given freely,
and still come with an expectation that was never said out loud.
How easily a moment meant for you
turns into something you got wrong.
And how, after a while,
you start second-guessing even the things that were supposed to be yours.