“…Mike doesn’t like hummus.”
What's not to like, Mike?
I was stretching atop a perfect picture-postcard hill, post “urban hike” when I overheard two women talk recipes. One was describing her hummus, which she makes with white beans rather than garbanzos. I gotta admit, her recipe sounded pretty tasty — and I’m very particular about my Mediterranean food. Then she added, “But Mike doesn’t like hummus.” And… I lost it.
It’s the sweetness of when you’re married to someone, and you know dumb little things about them, like whether or not they like hummus, that hit me. Because as of two days ago, the wheels of my divorce are in motion. It’s about time, since we haven’t lived together for two years. Sometimes I wish we could just go back and order pizza and drink wine like we used to and everything would be perfect – which it never was. Memories are perfect. No, you can’t. Go back.
