pasta for one

i don't know what possessed me, but i had a craving for pasta roni.
i rummaged through my make-shift of food and found two boxes! i pulled out the olive oil and vermicelli-- the better of the options. i boiled the water and milk and butter.  just as my fingers were poised to tear open the top ... i s t o p p e d .
i stood there, in the kitchen.
a boiling concoction on the stove, banana bread in the oven.
and for all the will within me i couldn't command my fingers to finish their action.

you see.

He helped pick out this pasta at the grocery store, and drove me and my pasta home, and carried it up my stairs to label it in his almost-illegible handwriting as declaration of my ownership. well over a year ago.

this was no longer dinner-- it had evolved into a connection to him and i couldn't. i couldn't do it.  i knew that if i were to tear that box i would probably start crying. perhaps not now, but tonight. or tomorrow. or some other really inopportune time. and if someone were to ask, i would mumble through my blubbering that i was in fact crying about a box of pasta roni. 
so i settled for the tomato with parmesan sauce.

i'm saving the box as a reminder. maybe i'll eat it one day. in 1.6 babies.