why dont you like me
when i came back from work, i found you sitting at my dining table. your eyes were red and puffy, and a wall of tissues surrounded you. my cat was sitting in your lap, staring. you smiled when i opened the door and said that it took me long enough. sighing, i replied that dinner was nothing special. you said that it was okay, but your body language betrayed you. of course it wasn't, but i soundlessly entered the kitchen anyways.
after dinner, we cuddled in my bedroom. you talked of your recently, just-dumped-3-hours-before ex, talked of how much of an asshole he was, and how unromantic and completely disgusting he had been over the past few months. i had interjected and offered you a quick solution. how about you stop dating heartless jerks for a change, i whispered, head against yours. you laughed and said that all men were jerks, and that you didn't quite have a choice since you weren't born a lesbian, now were you? after that, we fell silent and just lay there, two bodies in stasis. there was no moonlight that night, just a still darkness blanketing over us. after a long period of silence, i turned over to you and told you that i loved you. you smiled, gave me a kiss, and said that you loved me too. my chest had felt strangely tight, but the words i wanted to say refused to come out, probably because i already knew your answer. instead, my hot tears overflowed as i lay there with you in my arms.
and with that, a silent august night filled with restless sleep passed by us once again.