bleary eyed morning

I spent half the night crying. Wailing away really.

It is... a bit of a fuzz. I know there was biting, scratching and the punching of walls involved in my fit. (Those poor innocent walls *pats walls*)

Just another fight is all. Some might say it's because we were too serious too fast. Some could say it is our age. But it's definitely not a venus and mars argument.

We are happy. 95% of the time. The other 5% is spent... abusing poor walls.

Now we're heading off bright and early, to sign up for a class.

My eyes feel rather swollen. Tell me how bad when you see me, eh?

-Jacqueline

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

bleeding for love

We were in the midst of another half argument, Gillian and I, so I wanted to diffuse the tension. Isn't tension a horrible thing? It disallows you from getting close, from speaking the words of your heart, from comforting the ones you love. I tried tickling, to no avail. Attempted flattery, jokes, and an offer of food with only a half hearted smile to greet my words. And then I pulled out my secret weapon. I offered trust. If you know Gill, you know she's careless. My mom knows this through the 'dropping of wine bottle and shattering it' scene. Friends may know of it through her many attempts to help, and have something magically come apart on the way. I personally know it physically, through how many of her actions cause me to stumble, bump, and feel pain in my toes as she steps on them. So it shouldn't come as a surprise that I usually refuse to allow her and an ear digger anywhere near me. It is not a stereotype. Back in the early days, before I learnt the dange...
Read more

To which I started crying

Today I bought her a white rose. It was beautiful. I made an excuse to fly to the stores, wanting to buy something romantic to fill the day. The rose shown at me from amongst the yellows and purples, pure in its feelings. So I bought Gillian a flower. I have never received so much as a teeny flower to a bouquet, but those thoughts didn't bother me so much as my hope that she would like it. I wanted her to love the flower, love what it meant, and maybe I was hoping that the brownie points I'd gain would earn me a little kiss. I gave it to her over the dinner of sausages and eggs I'd cooked for her, while she stayed up working. And she broke my heart by telling me not to do it anymore. To which I started crying. -Jacqueline
Read more