*CW: This piece references death and the dying.

I imagine you eating purple grapes next to me on the couch, 
We are on season 4, we are invested. 
Tomorrow is Sunday so I’ve put meat in the fridge to thaw.
We have $47 between us until payday.
“Did you really fall in love with me over a bowl of chili?”
             I ask – I’ve always wanted to know. 
You rest your hand in the bowl of grapes,
“Of all things you could ask me, you chose that?”
I nod. 
You pluck a grape from its knobby stem and hand it to me.
The purple grapes give me migraines, but I eat it anyway. 
I want to ask you
              if you gave up in the end
              Or
              if it was just an accident
but I know with that brings resolution and
I’ll begin to mend on the inside:
              new memories patchworking over old and
              you’ll become buried beneath my father dying and
                          the dog digging holes in the backyard.
              Ill cut my medicine in half for a while and
              I’ll only dream about you around holidays.
There will be no reason to imagine you anymore,
no reason to enjoy you in your most gentle ways and
there will be no more reasons to keep blaming myself.