Dear Six Pack

She barely heard the harsh sound of her grocery bags hitting the ground as the waves of reality came crashing into her. Crashing as if the storm had been coming for a while, building up, evident if you were willing to acknowledge it, which she wasn't. Funny how this little six pack at her door step could be so powerful. It had a note but she didn't need to read it. The message was clear. He had warned her this was coming. She was warned, but she ignored the storm lights and the thunderous clouds.


When they first started having feelings for each other, or at least were first willing to admit them, she didn't want things to change. She was still his tomboy friend, even if the word "girl" was now thrown in front of the word "friend". She often would tell him he didn't need to buy her extravagant things, flowers, or cards. "A simple six pack would do", she'd say. She didn't want that part of their relationship to change. She was easy going, simple, and fun. But he insisted on doing the "boyfriend" things such as paying for dinner when they used to split the check or take turns covering the bill. Sending her flowers, writing her poems, bringing her favorite treats. All these things she loved in a boyfriend, but he was different. This was her friend for years. He didn't need to do all of that to keep her. He told her that six packs were for his guy friends and his one-night-stands, not for the girl of his dreams. He would say it in jest for a while and she never really took him seriously. But lately the playfulness had begun to fade from these statements. She might have slightly sensed that brewing storm, the anger he had that she wouldn't let him shower her with his love in gifts and affection. But she didn't want to get used to all that and she didn't want things to change. He told her that the day he give her a six pack was the day he called it quits. He said it would be the day he gave up on the girl of his dreams ever truly being his. Even with those words she was too stubborn to believe it was true; too stubborn to believe he could be into her forever; too stubborn to allow him to love her and let him in. He told her the gifts were just symbols, that he didn't need to give them to her to show his love but he wanted to. He said he just couldn't help himself. He wanted to give her the world. He felt she deserved it for putting up with him. It wasn't the only way he showed his love, but her constant insistence that he stop made him believe that she thought it was. She knew better deep down, but she couldn't stop herself. Too many years stubbornly protecting herself from heartbreak. He warned her that if she didn't let him in this wouldn't work; he would lose hope and give up some day.

So when she saw the six pack at her door, she knew. She had finally done it. She succeeded in making him treat her as one of the guys the way they always used to be. She succeeded in losing him. He had decided she wasn't worth the fight. "I want a girlfriend, not a wingman" he had yelled during their last fight. She never truly understood until now how much this was a problem for him. She didn't see why her personality and relationship with him had to change just because they were dating. Just because they were...in love. "This is just how it works," he had said. But she just didn't understand it. He was the only person she could truly be herself with, which is why she fell in love with him, and now he wanted her to change. At least, that is how she perceived the situation because by allowing things to change between them meant changing her own behavior, therefore changing herself. Bringing herself back to the present, she picked up one bottle and opened it with the bottle opener on her key ring. She gulped it down in a few swigs then put it back in the carton. She opened the door, dragged the groceries into the door, and grabbed another bottle.

After she guzzles down the last bottle, she picked up the carton, stumbled two blocks down the road, and slammed her fist into his door. "Bam Bam Bam" He opened the door with an annoyed face at the way she was banging. His expression changed to confused when he saw, and then smelled, how tipsy, or rather passed tipsy, she was. He started to question what was going on but she cut him off and shoved the empty six pack at his chest. "Thanks for the parting gift," she said and then she turned around to stumble away. She didn't really know what she was doing or saying. Her world had crumbled in a matter of seconds and she was just running on instinct or adrenaline. He called after her but she kept stumbling. She squeaked as she missed a step and tumbled to the ground. She laid out in his lawn in wonderment. She hadn't eaten and the beers that she chugged in a matter of minutes were taking over her body. He ran after her and hurried to his knees to check on her. "What are you doing? What's going on? What do you mean parting gift?" "Your stupid six pack," she slurred. With a confused yet worried face, he said, "didn't you read the note?" She had forgotten about the note. She had crushed it under one of the bottles in the carton. She didn't bother to read it. "No, what was the point? If you're done with me, you're done. I don't need a stupid Dear John or Dear Six Pack letter." He chuckled, still looking a bit puzzled. "Dear Six Pack, I like that. But if you had read the note.... well, I'll just read it now." "Dear Six Pack," he said, still chuckling, "This is my compromise. I won't stop showering you in any way I can find, but I'll try to remember that you are my best friend, not just my girlfriend. You are my wing-woman in life. Why would I try to change that? I have no idea. I'm an idiot I suppose. So, this is my compromise. I hope you will accept it. I can't say I won't still try to treat you like a queen, but I get it now. Today, I wanted to confide in you and talk to you about my girlfriend issues as I always had before, but I couldn't. It made me think we either need to go back to how things were and find other partners or find a way to make this work, compromise. I'm being a bit of a coward here, writing a note and leaving it at your door, but I had to get these words out right now as they came to me. I couldn't wait until I next saw you. I wouldn't know if I could express them out loud to you anyways. So here is an 'I'm sorry' six pack instead of a bouquet of flowers." The words melted her back into soberness, as much as they could given how much she drank. She didn't know if she wanted to cry at the gesture or laugh at her absurd behavior. If she had read the letter.... "I guess you took me seriously all those times I said that a six pack would be the end of us," he murmured. "Actually, I didn't," she replied, "which is why the sight of it struck me so hard. I thought it was one of those poetic endings to a relationship, where you're saying I finally get what I want, I finally pushed you away for good." He responded, "It was only meant to be the end of that never-ending fight, hopefully. It was my attempt at a romantic gesture for my tomboy girlfriend, my Six Pack". "Never gonna live that one down am I? He smiled as he helped her up to her feet, "Nope."