It was ironic that Roger looked like a white guy and I looked like a Latina.
Even the police report from the accident said he was a white male and I was a Hispanic female.
But I am actually Cherokee Indian and a mix of 100 other different things which is why I look Hispanic.
When Roger and I dated and before we bought the new house, we watched TV together on the sofa with Roger on my left.
We ate together there too.
And we always sat on our designated side of the couch.
Habit I guess.
But I never heard him chew.
Or at least I did not remember it.
Five months after we were engaged, we moved into the new house.
And for some unknown reasons, we switched positions on the sofa.
I am not sure why.
I do not even really remember being conscious of the switch.
I did not even notice it until after Roger died when replaying some random memories in my head.
And with these new positions, I noticed something.
Something super annoying.
Roger chewed his food really loud.
Like to the point where I would move to the love seat when he was eating.
And he could wake me up if I was taking a nap on the couch and he was eating.
Man, it was loud.
Roger blamed it on my heritage.
He said I had Indian tracker ears.
Indians used their hearing for hunting and I used mine to hear Roger chewing.
But what did I blame it on at the time.
Teasingly of course.
I blamed it on a trick.
Roger tricked me.
He got me to fall in love with him.
Got me to propose to him.
And then he started chewing louder.
And I would not leave him because he was a loud chewer.
I was trapped.
Honestly, I think it was probably the result of switch of sitting positions and not my genetics.
I hear a little better out of one ear than the other.
And probably the result of some of Roger's dental work made his chewing louder.
But my hearing probably is better than most.
I would give anything to hear him chew again.
To be annoyed by him.
To be trapped by him.