I needed to choose a song about my current relationship, but I was currently irritated at my current relationship. Monday I wanted to go running because I had gained two pounds, and Abraham refused to join me. I stared at him slackjawed with just a total Do-you-not-care-about-your-health accusation on my face. Tuesday he went to play raquetball with his friend and didn't get home until late. I felt like I hadn't seen him in days. And now I was supposed to pick a song about how I felt about him. I posted the question to Twitter instead.
I need a song that describes my love life. Go!
— Sarah LovesMeNotBlog (@LovesMeNotBlog) April 8, 2013
"You need to pick a song," he reminded me in bed that night.
"Is the song in that book you're reading?" he teased.
"Sure." I flipped the page.
And then I felt guilty and put my Jodi Picoult down. I scrolled through iTunes on my phone, which only has about 100 songs, with the intention of just picking one of those and being done with it.
"Oh, okay!" I said. "This one."
It wasn't a bad choice, actually. It was Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zero's "Home." It was a song I liked that Abraham also tolerated. Plus it was upbeat, which you need for a sports game; mushy wouldn't do.
Abraham nodded. "I thought you would pick a worse song."
"Oh, I considered it."
The unspoken conversation we were having was that he thought I would pick a song about getting married. The truth is I've spent about every other day of the past three months talking about getting married. Not in a when-are-you-going-to-do-it way, but in an equally annoying this-is-what-we-should-do way.
Eating at our favorite restaurant: "We should have the rehearsal dinner here."
Talking to a friend: "Tell me how he proposed!" even though it was two years ago.
Talking to the friend's sister: "When do you think you will get engaged?"
Yes, I was that girl. And I fully knew how annoying I was being to a boy who told me he'd would propose within 2013. It was January and February and March. I had a ways to go. And yet, I couldn't stop talking.
"So why didn't you pick a worse song?" he asked.
"Because it would confuse people. 'Oh, you're getting married?' 'No.'"
I opened Youtube. "I was considering this one and this one and this one."
"The first two are so slow."
"I know! Not practical."
"I remember the last one though."
I previously had showed him that video several times, maybe tearing up while doing so.
Abraham went back to his laptop. I clicked on a new video and held my phone in the air.
"We're going to the chapel, and we're going to get married," the Dixie Cups crooned.
Abraham snorted. I considered that I had punished him enough with the marriage talk for one day and put my phone away. I picked up my book again and glanced at Abraham. He was downloading the Bruno Mars song.
"What are you doing?"
"Punishment song for [the guy we don't like on our team]. His girlfriend watches all the games, so this will screw him over."
And then I went back to reading my book.