[chapter two]
Disclaimer: If you've heard of
them, I don't own them. Everything else is mine, so no stealing, pretty please.
;-)
**
Brendan and I spoke, very cordially, at the office today.
He politely asked why we broke up.
I explained about the whole, you know, fighting thing.
"We don't fight." He said, making me inhale the wrong way and start coughing at the absurdity of his comment.
"We don't fight?!" I shot back. "Bren, we fight all the time. About everything. We don't see eye to eye on anything."
"That's not true!" He fired back.
"We fight about breakfast, about my job, about your job, about where to go on vacation, about you leaving the lid off the shampoo in the morning which makes it all watery!"
"That's not fighting. That's bickering. And maybe we would bicker less if you weren't so neurotic."
I should have walked away right then, but I didn't.
Two people who enjoy healthy debate as much as we do just shouldn't date.
"Fine, if we don't fight, name one day in our WHOLE relationship in which we haven't had a fight."
Brendan thought for a long moment, before raising a fist with a look of triumph. "Our first date!" He said proudly.
I rolled my eyes. "We fought on our first date."
"Did not!"
"Yes, we did." I insisted. "We argued over who was going to pay the check. I offered to pick up my part of the tab, and you wigged out and launched into a huge lecture about chivalry while I tried to argue for the movement of feminism."
His brow furrowed, and then he glared at me. "Do you always have to be so fucking right?"
Obviously, today's discussion wasn't cordial after we got past "How are you?". This is a sign of how things have degenerated.
I hate this.
Yes, I always have to be this fucking right.
Especially when it's my heart on the line.
Fine.
Yeah, fine.
My horoscope today: All signs point
to a need for a change of pace. Oh no! the stars forsee disagreements with
co-workers today.
No shit, Sherlock.