From Perfect Day…

I liked camping. I didn’t love it. I’d wanted to go camping that weekend because Graham was going, and I wanted to be with him. I preferred museums and art galleries and brunch at Metropol Bakery. Graham liked those things too, though not as much as he enjoyed hiking and camping and fishing. We traded off. One weekend doing what he liked. Then the next weekend it would be my turn to choose.

It had seemed to work for a time.

I could almost pinpoint the moment things had changed between us. We’d been seeing each other pretty regularly. Casually but regularly. And one Saturday afternoon we were barbecuing salmon steaks on his deck and I’d said, “Hey, did you want to go to Mount Pisgah Arboretum next Sunday? It’s the wildflower and music festival.”

Innocuous, you’d think, but the implication was that we’d be seeing each other the following weekend. Not unreasonable because we had been seeing each other most weekends, but I could see it brought Graham up short. Broke whatever pleasant spell had settled over him over the past two months.

He’d said politely, vaguely, “Maybe. I might have to work. I’ll give you a call.”

It turned out he did have to work that weekend. I’d said that was too bad and I’d go with friends. And I did. And as much as I’d missed Graham, I’d had the brains not to call him, to leave the next move to him. To my relief he had called later in the week and we’d made plans for the following weekend.

But it had never quite been the same. He’d begun pushing me back. In little ways. He was never unkind, but he didn’t call as often, didn’t have as much time to see me. He was busy. We both were. But I knew. The easy instant harmony we’d known from the first had faded. We still got along, still had plenty to talk about when we did get together, but it felt a little off. I could feel myself trying too hard to recapture what we’d had, and the harder I tried, the further Graham withdrew.

And I had never really understood why. I knew it had to do with my assumption that we were going to be seeing more of each other. But how was that a wrong assumption?

No, maybe it was more to do with making plans. Making plans together.

I didn’t know. I would never know; that was the truth.

It had been good for those two months. That was what made it hard. It had felt right. I had been so sure that Graham was going to be the guy I fell in love with. Well, he was. The part I got wrong was thinking Graham was going to feel the same way.