This is the 40th installment of a 100-day challenge to write a new vignette every morning.
It dawned on her that others could make her happier but only she could make herself happy. Seven years of therapy and still Hailey hadn’t internalized that—until she stood in the grocery store with a bag of flour under her arm.
She was waiting in line behind an elderly couple purchasing a tub of macaroni salad and about a thousand hotdog buns. She listened shamelessly as they discussed their upcoming barbecue and deliberated on whether little Marnie would eat anything—or was she still a vegetarian? Hailey watched as they bobbed in each other’s gravity and moved with a coordination that only came with a lifetime of cooking together.
She yearned, in that moment, for a partner and a gaggle of children and grandchildren and a breathtaking sunset to her life. They’d have family meals and sit around a fire with hot cocoa on Christmas and do all of the things that happy families do in Hallmark movies.
Looking at the couple’s hotdog buns on the conveyor belt in front of her, she felt exhausted just thinking of preparing that much food. Looking at the couple’s clasped hands, she felt dread settle in her gut. Did people really open themselves up to so much vulnerability like that? Devoting decades of her life to another person was unfathomable to her; she’d never even let anyone stay the night.
For the hell of it, Hailey imagined a partner and family suddenly materializing in her life. She’d be happy then, right? No, that wouldn’t make her happy—so what would?
She placed the bag of flour onto the conveyer bag where the couple’s hotdog buns had just been.
Miles Away 