Well, things were a little...weird last night.

I was kind of pissed off because he had already eaten dinner.

Which sounds stupid, but we have a little tradition that I bring home Chinese food from work on Sundays, and he gets a movie.

"What do you want for dinner tonight?"

"Oh, nothing. I already ate."

"...what?"

"I cooked dinner and me and Vurn ate already."

"Oh. Okay."

"You're upset."

"No. Not really."

"Yes you are. I can tell."

"Okay, maybe a little bit."

"Vurn's mom came over so I cooked for all three of us."

"...oh. Okay, then. That's okay then."

"You're still upset."

"I'm fine."

"No you're not."

"Why don't you come down right before my shift ends and get a movie, and then we can share a cab back up to your place?"

"I don't really want to. Why don't you get some food for yourself, and go get a movie, and then I'll pay you back when you get up here?"

"Oh. Okay."

"Do you need taxi money?"

"No. I'm fine."

"You're still upset."

"I'm fine."

"No you're not."

"I'll see you about 9-ish."

"Okay. See you then."

*click*

So I rented some movies, called a cab and spent copious amounts of money getting up there.

In the door.

Mike's looking a little apprehensive, because he probably knew I was a little ticked and didn't want to make things worse.

A kiss.

A aww-gooey-cootchie-coo noise from Vurn-direction.

Small talk.

I put down all my bags, took off my shoes and coat, and he came up behind me and put his arms around me.

Him:

"So, how was your day?"

This part I kind of regret saying, though I was half teasing:

"Oh, fine besides the fact my boyfriend already ate dinner and forgot to mention the fact, then wouldn't come down to meet me after my ten hour shift."

Mike, silent. Then he pulled back and pushed me away from him. (Stab to the heart.) In the background, from Vurn:

"Ooo! Major guilt trip!"

Mike looks angry, or at least irritated. I reget what I said, and put a hand on his arm.

"I'm sorry."

He pulls away sharply and goes to sit on the couch.

"No, you're not."

Ow. How about a twist with that stab.

That really hurt. I hate when people said that. It really upset me, more than he knew, I think. I tried to get my dinner ready, but I only managed to get the take-out box out of the bag, and the plate out of the cupboard before I have to leave the room or burst into tears.

I go in to Mike's room and sit in the dark at his computer for a few minutes, silently (before realizing his internet wasn't hooked up yet). I do burst into tears.

Well, burst isn't quite the word. More like slide into tears, because my eyes filled up first until my vision was blurry, then they just started sliding down my cheeks.

I locked myself into the bathroom and went pee.

Yes, I went pee.

That's what people usually do in the bathroom. And they usually lock the door.

I'm cleaning myself up, when I hear a little knock at the door.

I ignore it.

It comes again, a little louder.

"Rosie?"

I unlock the door, and open it a little. I had been crying. My face was only a little bit red, though.

He can always tell when I've been crying though.

He makes a little sorry noise and pulled me into a hug. I try not to cry.

"I really did mean it when I said I was sorry."

He held me a little bit away from him and wiped the wetness away from under my eyes, giving that little 'I'm-sorry-I-didn't-mean-it' look.

"I was only joking when I said you didn't mean it."

I don't think he was, but I think, like me, he regretted it the moment he said it, and couldn't think of anything else to say to make it all right.

All that matters is he regretted it, and came after me when I was upset.

He pulled me into his room and we cuddled close and tight on his bed for a few minutes.

"Don't cry, don't cry," he'd say.

I'd just give a little sobbing laugh. "You know I cry about everything."

He cupped my face and smiled. "I know. I think we need to remove your tear ducts." And then promptly tried to, without much success because he was using his thumbs.

"What, so then when I get upset, my face'll turn red and my nose will turn on like a faucet?"

He laughed. "Yes, exactly."

So that was our first pseudo-fight, I think.

More like verbal jabs and hurt feelnigs than actual fighting, and I really can't stay mad at him.

Trust me, I've tried. Not hard, mind you, but I've tried.

.

Rosie.

Before&After