Upside Out

It’s funny how something can just set you off, how you consciously choose to fight. How the mind enters a cycle, fuelled by pride and a short supply of patience. A drunken fight arose, and I did nothing to quell it. I knew he was set on fighting, and on being angry, and I dodged what I could, and threw back what I couldn’t. He went to sleep on the couch several times and came back, to fight more, until I finally grabbed my pillow and went to sleep drunkenly on the couch. Only after I had that last smoke, and drank another half beer, which was a silly idea. I woke up to him getting water, and grabbing my hand and dragging me to bed, where we fought some more, until he got out of bed, and I slept fitfully for a few hours. Somewhere during a calm spell during the fight, I went walking in the rain to get smokes. So calming. When I finally dragged myself out of bed, and told him I wanted to talk before he left for work. We sat on the couch, and my time asleep and his awake had given us both perspective and we both conceded idiocy and wrongfulness. We lay in bed, leaving whispering kisses all over each others bodies.. although mostly mine. I’m such a lucky girl.

Strange how a night of fighting, a night of sleeping alone, can bring everything rushing into perspective. I want him bed with me every night. I want to understand him. I want him there, always..