Ah, I'm tired, sick, under worked, over stressed.

Relationships are hard.

Not that this is a first revelation, or anything.

I've known.

I've always known.

Known throughout the few and failed, along the hunting trail.

But it's hard.

Sometimes Mike makes me want to cry, just...just because I hate myself around him.

Sometimes I'm cocky and selfish, and I try not to be, but sometimes it just doesn't work.

It just doesn't work.

This morning I cried with my face buried in his chest, but I don't think he noticed.

I was just being stupid and annoying and selfish, as usual, and he got frustrated and made a, well, frustrated noise, shoving my arm out of the way.

And I know I deserved it.

Still, it stung.

So I rolled over and buried my face in his soft warm chest and stayed there until I'd used up all the oxygen under the blanket and couldn't breath anymore.

I think I left a wet patch on his chest.

Oh, fuck, I'm crying again and my nose is running really badly.

Oh, god, I hope my nose doesn't bleed.

Fortunately the blood doesn't show on black.

It's his birthday on Friday. I should do something nice for him, but I don't know what.

I do nice things for him all the time.

I cooked him pancakes at 11pm last night.

That's nice.

He liked them.

But he eats a lot. I'm sure he could have eaten the whole batch and still wanted that orange.

And I even bought the pancake mix and syrup.

Though it was his eggs and milk and butter.

I guess it's pretty even, then.

Ah, I wish I wasn't so stupid and selfish.

On a lighter note, it was my parents 25th anniversary sometime.

Neither of them can remember when.

They only remember it's sometime this month.

Heheheh.

Parents, I swear.

.

Rosie.

Before&After