Oblong

1 But instead, when you’re angry, you use your jaw to clamp your teeth together until you have a headache. You are doing it right now. I can see the muscles in your neck clenching and I have to look away.

2 It’s obvious. You tell me to stop being difficult. I’m offended.

3 I say FUCK and you are pacing around the apartment. Goddamnit. Goddamnit. Goddamnit. Your voice drifts down the hall and I know you’re in the living room. I wait a minute before following you and I find you on our salmon-colored couch staring at the magazine you’ve just thrown. I can tell you threw it because the pages are ruffled and it’s laying face down on the floor in an uncomfortable position.

4 We also both know that it will. But right now it’s not sorted out and it sucks.

5 The one I painted for you at Doodlebug for our first Christmas. I remember when you smiled and hugged me when you opened it. We joked at how overpriced Doodlebug is. I admitted it had cost $15 dollars to paint and we both cracked up. Now, you say sorry for breaking the plate. I say I’m sorry too. But I don’t really mean it because I say it in a tone that says otherwise.

6 I’m crying a lot. I leave the living room and go into the bathroom of our apartment to rinse my face with cold water. I think about how my face is puffing up from crying so much so I gently massage the cold water over my eyelids.

7 So I go back into the living room where you are still sitting on the couch. And you say:

8 It’s true. Fighting about the same things over and over again never helps. It’s true. We’ve had this fight before. Just as I feel our rage melting, I try to explain my side again. I watch as your neck muscles tense and your lips bunch up in anger. You take a deep breath and it bothers me. You make me feel like I’m crazy. And the worst part about it is

9 It makes me really sad. I bring this up. That it’s all I want at this point. Just hug me and we can stop fighting. Show me some affection, please. You’re still angry and you tell me I’m like broken batteries.

10 No.

11 You begin to get up off the couch and I turn away because I’m hurt. We are both exhausted. You wrap me in your arms and say sorry and it sounds sincere this time.

12 I’m happy we stopped fighting, but I’m not satisfied either. I ask you if you want to go out to dinner because I don’t feel like cooking. I go reapply my makeup to hide my red swollen eyes. We barely talk in the car ride over and when we do it’s in whispers. When we are seated they bring us menus. You reach for my hand across the table and I try to take my mind off everything.