"A lunch pail?" I replied, "Like a lunchbox? Like a metal one?"
"No, like a lunch pail. And we are going to go on a picnic."
Even though I wasn't really sure what a lunch pail was by his standards, I started smiling. My thoughts were rushing wildly. I thought, "It's been so long since he has done anything spontaneous like this. Oh wow, I can't believe we are going on a picnic and it was his idea. Omg, what does this mean?" He left the room, and my roommate came in and asked me if I'd seen the lunch pail. I said I hadn't, and she pointed it out to me, telling me it already had stuff in it.
My gaze was directed to a turquoise square tote that looked like one of those fabric insulated coolers. I could hardly believe it. We were really going on a picnic! He had not only bought this really square cooler, but he'd also filled it up? I was beyond ecstatic and even filled with a tiny bit of hope at the implications. I tried not to get too ahead of myself as I opened up the lid and saw...
...tools. Wait...what?
I stared for what seemed like an eternity at the two drills sitting in the turquoise box, not really comprehending what I was seeing. I looked up, with what I'm sure was a perplexed look on my face. The man and my roommate laughed, it was all a joke. They were just teasing.
A joke. I certainly felt like a joke. I certainly felt like a fool.
I felt the tears well up in my eyes and spill out before I could stop them. Now it was the man's turn to look perplexed.
"Are you crying?" He asked. I shook my head no. But at that point I was actually audibly sobbing.
"This is you not crying?"
I couldn't form the words I wanted to say. I couldn't tell him that in a very few minutes, I'd placed the entire hopes of a different future for us on something as simple as a picnic, and a lunch pail. I couldn't explain that opening that box and finding it full of something entirely different than picnic fair, meant it was also empty of dreams.
But, pathetically, the only thing I could say was:
"I thought the picnic was real."
My poor roommate felt so bad, never dreaming for a moment that I would have believed her especially. She does tend to be full of mischief and I normally am more cautious. I was obviously off my game that day.
Flash forward to last week. As a Mother's Day gift, I received from the man a large wicker basket, full of real dishes and glasses and silverware; a very fancy picnic basket. I know why he bought it, and I appreciate what he means by it. But as the days have gone by, and I walk by the basket every day as it sits in my room, I wonder when it will be used. I wonder if there will be picnics together. I wonder what sort of future there is to be for us.
I feel like one day I will walk into my room and the basket won't be there. And the writing on the wall will say, "The picnic is a lie."
