Here’s what love really is. Love is still wanting to hold someone after you climax. After the initial euphoria from the orgasm wears off, you’re replaced with a sense of calm rather than a panic. You don’t want to search for your clothes, scramble to find your keys and figure out the best way to tell them, “See ya later forever!” You’re fine with chilling out in bed with the person and maybe ordering pad thai later.
I guess everyone has their moment. Mine was when I got up out of that bed.
We had been fighting the evening before. I would have argued all night, but he ended it so he could go to sleep. He had to get up early the next morning. I knew he was tired of it. So was I. But stopping an argument was basically like giving up. The end of the argument meant it was time to make a decision. The one that I was never ready for. The one that I had always used as a threat, despite knowing it scared me more than it scared him. The one that always seemed my responsibility to make.
I decided to sleep on the couch. He came in once to check on me. He stood there for a while, my back turned to him. But he didn’t ask me to come to bed.
I was filled with anger. Anger and another feeling I couldn’t really identify. It was heavy. I felt like he was trying to trick me. But I couldn’t tell you how. My brain hurt, trying to bend itself into understanding his perspective. I’d reached the point of understanding. But I couldn’t reach the point of accepting. It was like my conscience was trying to justify his actions.
I couldn’t sleep. The arguments were exhausting, but only mentally. I wanted to run, to escape – to escape the walls of my mind, his apartment, our lives. I needed to scream. If I started, I’m not sure how long it would have taken me to stop. I slammed about, closing doors loudly. Running water needlessly. Crying. I wanted his attention. It didn’t work. I could hear his steady breathing next door.