i had chicken pot pie for dinner

where's my love || dylan o'brien (part one)

word count: 4152

warnings: angst

prompt: none

author’s note: hey everyone! this is the first part of a series that i have decided to start! i’m really excited to write this. special thank you to hayley @sarcasticallystilinski, for reading through this and giving it a huge support! other than that, i hope you all really like this! love you all! 

masterlist

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wrong partner.

okay this is my first lucaya fic and it’s TERRIBBLEELELLVLEBIELEB. but i wrote it for dixonbros bc i love her and i’m going to write more in the future and they will be less terrible we hope. also i didn’t proofread after finishing the whole thing bc i can’t stand to read this again omf.

summary: lucas and maya are paired up for a class project bc i’m a basic bitch who writes basic tropes.

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please read this its important

thirsty but we dont even have cold water lol ntm we have no food i had to eat an expired chicken pot pie earlier and it was so scary and im so fucking hungry right now we dont even have milk for cereal and my dads boss wont pay him

our money situation keeps getting worse we had to borrow money from a friend to have pizza dinner yesterday and its so embarrassing being this broke

if u can, can u please donate to my paypal; catgrave0@gmail

please reblog im really sick of starving even just $1 can get us some ramen thank you!!!!

growing old in the diner

They walked into the diner a few minutes after us and took the table directly behind ours. I was facing their table and watched them walk in and sit down. 

She was about 80 years old. He was in his 50s, and I figured out quickly he was her son. From the snippets of conversation I heard - he was a loud talker - I figured out they had just come from the doctor, where she was diagnosed with macular degeneration. He read aloud from a pamphlet about it while she read out loud from the menu.

“It’s not curable…”
“Maybe I’ll have the sea bass.”
“You can take vitamins…”
“Ooh they have chicken pot pie!”
“It mostly hits those over 60.”
“No, I think I’ll have the filet of sole.”

I don’t think she was interested in learning more about macular degeneration. Maybe she heard enough from the doctor. Maybe she just didn’t care. Maybe she just wanted to enjoy dinner out. 

The waiter came over to their table. They ordered. He was just having a salad. She was having a four course meal. 

“And I don’t want any iceberg lettuce in my salad. Romaine only. And I want the split pea soup but put it in a to-go container.”
“I want some of your soup, ma.”
“Ok, bring out the soup. The same time as the salad. And don’t put any butter on my potato. Now, which has less salt, the string beans or the peas?”

Our own conversation was quiet and small talk. We were both tired and hungry and sometimes we’re just comfortable sitting in silence for a period of time. I watched the St. John’s game on the tv above us while the lady rambled off more instructions for the waiter.

Our order came out and as soon as we got a little food in us, we perked up and our conversation became more animated, drowning out further talk about macular degeneration. 

I imagined myself thirty years from now, sitting there with my son, eating a four course meal in a diner at 4:00 in the afternoon while he tried to talk to me about my deteriorating health and I ignored him. 

I can’t imagine myself that old. I don’t want to imagine myself frail or weak or deteriorating. But it’s going to happen. Years are going to pass and one day I’ll be asking one of my kids to drive me to an eye doctor appointment and maybe they’ll take me out for the early bird special after.

We were sitting there eating our BLTs talking about the problems we’re going through right now and how we’re going to get through them. And I kept fast forwarding through life. To five, ten, twenty, thirty years from now. This will be over. We’ll have gotten through this. How will I remember it? Will I remember being beat down with a sense of urgency to just give up or will I remember persevering through it, strong and confident that we can overcome? Will this be such a monumental time in our lives that I’ll even remember it as anything more than a speck in time?

And suddenly I wanted this. I wanted thirty years from now to be sitting at that table with my son or daughter, talking about my macular degeneration and eating filet of sole and salad with just romaine lettuce. Because it means I’ll have gotten through all this, and all that comes after it. I’ll come upon different problems, different trials and they’ll all come and go, just part of the fabric of my life.

In order to get there, I have to get through here and persevere through everything life has to offer me. They’re not going to be all good times. But they will be part of my life and they’ll make up part of who I am when I’m sitting in that diner 30 years from now. 

“You have another appointment next week, ma.”
“I think I’ll have the rice pudding. Or maybe the bread pudding.”

Get both, lady. You earned it for getting this far. And let me know how the filet is. I’ll be ordering it one day.