Today, something strange happened to me. As usual, I was sitting in the car, waiting for her to come down and take her to work. She takes her time before leaving—carefully locking up, checking everything twice, making sure the house is in order. It’s something I used to find frustrating, but over the years, I’ve come to understand. Maybe it's a stereotype about women that men (including me) propagate, but honestly, it’s also one of the little things that makes her her.
Still, the waiting wasn’t always easy. I’d sit there, keeping the engine running, thinking she’d be out in five minutes. I’d leave the AC on so the car would be cool for her. But as ten minutes passed, my mind would wander to the wastefulness of it—burning fuel for no reason. So, with a sigh, I’d turn the car off. And, like clockwork, within 30 seconds, she’d appear, only to frown and complain about how hot the car had become. This has been happening for ten years.
But today, something felt different. As I sat there, I suddenly had a thought: If I switch off the car, she will come. Not just because of some strange pattern I had noticed, but because I wanted her to come. Because I missed her. Because in that quiet moment of waiting, I realized I wasn’t just impatient—I was lonely.
So I turned off the car, half-smiling to myself, feeling silly for believing
in this little ritual. And then, just like always, within seconds, she
appeared. Was this cause and effect? Ah, may be I am reading too much epidemiology.
And then it dawned on me, the wait didn’t matter anymore. I can turn off the engine anytime and she would be there, always!