window washer fluid

He would fill my window washer fluid.

Without me ever really asking, he would notice, he would fix it, and the next time I would clean my windows I would smile softly because it would magically be full again.

He would fill my window washer fluid.

He wouldn’t always tell me he loved me before going to bed, or call me when he got home, or be honest about where he was. But he always made my sure my windows could be cleaned, so I could see, so I wouldn’t die – at least that’s what I told myself.

He would fill my window washer fluid.

That’s what I would repeat to myself each time he said something mean, or called me another girls name, when he would “play” and accidentally leave black and blue and dark green spots on my body.

He would fill my window washer fluid.

Again, and again, and again I would convince myself that this must means that he loves me, that he cares about me, that I mean something to him. Who just fills someone’s window washer fluid without wanting to spend the rest of forever with them?

He would fill my window washer fluid.

It became my Hail Mary when he would start to tug at my clothes, when he would push and shove and cover my mouth, closing his hands around my neck and watching with a slight smile as my eyes flickered with the threat of closing permanently. 

He would fill my window washer fluid.

He must love me, he must care, he fills my window washer fluid without ever asking. 

And then it hit me – without ever asking.

I turn to you, freshly off the sheets of my bed that we shared the night before, hair tousled in a way that brings heat to my face if I look at you too long. I haven’t thought about it in a while, but my window washer fluid is almost empty.

“Do you know how to change window washer fluid?”

You pause, you think, you say “Yeah I’ve done it once, I think…” you look at me, locking those baby blues onto mine, “why?”

“Well, mine’s almost empty” 

“I’m not sure but I’ll learn - I’ll do it for you”

You smile. 

You kiss me.

I smile.

I kiss you.

You’ll fill my window washer fluid now, and it can just be that.

A simple automobile task, nothing more, nothing less.

***

authors note:

Something so mundane, yet so significant. I find ideas like these so tantalizing and fun to dive into. To take something so minute and construct a whole story around it -- a whole world. Who knows, maybe window washing fluid sales will go up after this. Men, take note.