I forgot the milk for my son's birthday cupcakes. I'm not sure how it happened, since I remembered every other ingredient including the dazzling spiderman candles. Yet, as I was mixing the flour and sugar with the other dry ingredients, I came to the realization that I finished the last of the carton this morning with the cereal. I escaped through the back door, trying not to wake my over attached husky mix. Jimmy would cry for hours, making the neighbor's ears bleed until I got home. I sneaked a glance at him sleeping by the front windows and tiptoed out the back door. Just as I clicked the gate shut, Jimmy chased after me wailing in desperation. "I'll be home in 5 minutes, Jesus." I walked away from my house, cringing as Jimmy called after me and my neighbor across the street gave me a disapproving glance as he watered his dead plants. I walked to the corner of Maple and Palm and entered the liquor store. I took a basket and roamed the aisles. I picked up a bag of red vines and slipped it between my lips like a cigarette. I bit off the end and sucked air through it, whistling until I reached the refrigerated back wall. I grabbed the last milk carton in the far back. That is where the freshest product is always stored. With my hands full of miscellaneous candy and milk, I swung around to walk to the cashier. The licorice in my mouth flung out of my mouth a hit you on the leg. I looked up and you laughed, handing me the now hair and lint covered candy. You told me that it was also your favorite treat. I replied that if someone told me twirlers were better one more time, I'd punch them. You thought I was funny. You ended up carrying my jug of milk to my house and we talked the whole time about how terrifying space movies are and how they mess with your head. I made you tea, because coffee makes you anxious. You said it makes you poop and you can only poop in the silence of your own home. I confessed similar thoughts, so we shared a pot of chai. You helped me make my kid's cupcakes. I was thankful because I had never baked a day in my life. You showed my how to dye the insides and we made spider man themed cakes. You said your mother taught you everything you know. I though it was sweet that you talked so much about your mother. Before I knew it, you were helping me put out snacks for the my son's birthday party. You opened the cupboards looking for plates, as comfortable as if you lived here. I could picture that, we'd be sipping tea rationalizing that we were not coexisting with aliens to get to bed at night. I lent you my high school sweatshirt. It fit your broad shoulders and I explained that I lost 60 pounds in one of those biggest loser shows. You looked impressed and then I admitted it was my brothers. You and I just fit together. We laughed at each other's hyper critical nagging of the world around us. We fought over the best flavor of french fry and the worst way to die. You and I somehow wandered into our lives and wandered out of them. You got a call from your sister asking you to meet her for dinner. It seemed urgent so you scribbled your number onto a napkin and we kissed goodbye near front steps of my house. It was our first date, our first beginning together. I wandered back into the kitten dazed by your charm. I picked up some trash left over from the birthday party and put in the bin next the counter. I looked over to where you had sat and remembered your snort embedded laughter. I smiled and went to pick up your scribbled digits.Then, my heart sunk. The paper was no longer on the table. I looked around frantically and then saw a corner of the purple note on Jimmy's bed. Just a small edge of my future remained, the rest liquidating in my dog's intestines. I sunk onto the floor, the piece of paper fluttering from my finger tips. You were gone, with no way to reach you. What is you thought I didn't care? It was all a missed connection.
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