drunk texting, a couple of nights ago.

i couldn't tell. apparently, i was supposed to play. i was just offended. "i just wanted to see how far you'd go."

...

but yesterday morning, My World Renowned Guilt Trip sets in. At work, he takes over tasks without telling me, lends a helping chivalrous hand without my asking. Of course, I could be reading too much into things. that is what i do after all.

but then after i break the ice, and tell him straight forward, "remember, when you were an asshole this weekend?" and we move on. and i make him laugh. and at one point, i feel dizzy, because i'm sick, and sort of feeling feverish, and his brow furrows, and he reaches his arm out, and places his large hand, across my forehead, and i crumble into a tiny little girl. "you're not getting a fever."

"remember, when we met last summer?" his straight face molds, his nose crinkles, and he forcefully represses a smile.
"oh my god, what is that?" i say. "is that an adorable half smile? are you being adorable right now?"
"shut up."

and the way, the crowds around us watched us arm wrestle - he with his boxing arms, and me, with my fragile wrists. it was funny, it was fun, but mostly, when it was over, and his hand slipped out, i felt the heavy sweat of a very nervous little boy, who had been technically holding hands with the girl he liked for a couple of minutes.

but again.

i have been known to read.