Painting a Room.

“I want to paint a room with someone.”

“So paint your room!”

“No,” I said, “I want to paint a room with someone else. I want to wake up early and get coffee and take the subway to Home Depot. I want to have already pre-planned our color scheme so we know to look for cool or warm shades. I want to argue over paint swatches, laugh at the mustard yellows and pale pinks that remind us of our childhood bedrooms. I want to annoy the other person by asking strangers for advice. I want to settle on a marigold or maybe some kind of bright green teal. I want to look the list we wrote together so we remember to get big rollers, little brushes, the tray you slosh the paint around in, tarps, and duct tape, and that gummy painters tape. I want the other person to suggest we get aprons that we can use for our next project. I want to kiss them when they say that. I want to buy gum and magazines and Coca Cola because they are right next to the register. I want to ask the cashier to double bag it, because we are taking the subway. I want to go home and put on music and old clothing and realize we forgot primer. I want the other person to be ok with just painting anyway. I want to cover all the furniture and then offer to fry up some eggs. I want there to be beer in the fridge for when we are halfway through. I want the painting to commence in a passionate, memorable stoke that we photograph. A splash of bright marigold on a industrial white wall. I want the painting to be done in stages, as we quietly sing along to songs. I want to make love on the floor when it strikes us. I want to nap while the paint dries, and wake up just in time to see the other person moving the furniture back. I want to offer to help and have them say, ‘I’ve got it.’ I want to brag about it to friends ‘this weekend, we painted a wall!’. I want to paint a room with someone else.”

Brittawnee looked at me plainly. She understood.

“Yeah,” She said, “Sometimes I feel that way too. But then I think … what if we don’t agree on the color?”

She giggled loudly. Brittawnee has the loudest giggle. The best part is almost anything could set her off. I envy this about her.

I was being honest in my desire though. My need for this one experience. To share something. To be at that place again. I no longer knew what it was like to function as a coupled organism, and I was wondering if I was starting to get weird.

Read the rest here.

Good writers always seem to comprehend the concept of "honesty" better than everyone else.