I'm melting...

I have this running joke with Matt that he’s like the Wicked Witch of the West.

I’m a total library fiend so needless to say, I’m there a lot. But everytime I’m with Matt and I need to drop off a book at the library, he waits outside. The times he does venture inside the bowels of literature, it’s because he needs to use the bathroom. If I actually come clean and say I want to browse a bit, he stays home. So all of this has led me to believe that he has some odd aversion to the library, much like the Wicked Witch of the West did to water: they will both melt.

He insists that it’s not the truth, but smirks at the thought. He also knows that I’ve stopped bothering him and now look forward to the library time as “me time.”

But lately I’ve realized it’s not just libraries. He’ll also melt if he comes in close contact with places knows as “gardening centers.” Last week I drove in to work and on the way home I was looking forward to stopping at this gardening center which otherwise is out of my way. Then Matt decided to come up to meet me and drive home with me. When I mentioned my intended rendez-vous, he said, “Forget it, I’ll take the train” as if the rendez-vous included a short imprisonment in a gulag.

Which is now what I realize these places are to Matt. They’re torture. Going to gardening centers and libraries – even with me – are torture to this man. Two places that I love, are torture to him.

Now, I can A) try and change him to come to love these places, B) leave it and just enjoy another place I can go for some “me-time”, or C) continue to find more places of torture**.

**There’s a great lingerie shop on Main St, maybe Matt wants to come with me?