Friday, February 17, 2006

The Essence of Communication

Trev’s just drifting into sleep so I roll over, prop my head on my hand and ask, “whatcha thinking, Hon?”
He groans. With great effort, he rolls over and rechecks the alarm. It’s midnight. The alarm is set for 6 AM.
“Anything on your mind lately?” I ask.
“You mean like sleep?”
I take this as a cue to dive into a heavy ‘us’ topic. He has closed his eyes again but I’m sure he’s listening.
“…and that’s what I was thinking,” I conclude, “you?”
Trev blinks, “Huh?”
“What have you been thinking about it?”
“I think there are good things in our future.” It’s a generic, standby answer. He won’t get away with it.
“Do you love me?” I ask pathetically.
“Yes, I love you.” Pause. “Why are you staring at me?”
“Scanning for verification.”
“God. I hate when you do that,” he pulls the covers over his head, “It makes me nervous.”
“Do you love me the MOST?”
“A little less every time you do this, but, yes, you’re still in the lead. Good. Night.”
“Goodnight, love!” I return to my book.

7:30 AM, I enter the kitchen pulling on my housecoat. “You know, love,” I say as I fill the kettle with water, “you really gotta stop dragging me into the deep talks late at night.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” he says with sensitive eyes, “I just feel insecure sometimes.”
“Well,” I say, “I need my sleep. You know I have lots of stuff to do during the day. There are these dishes, for one thing.”
“I know, babe. I’m sorry.” Pause. “I took a massive dump this morning,” he says matter-of-factly.
I nod and set the kettle to boil. Charlie farts.
* * *
EDITED TO ADD:
Trev just told me that what he actually said was that CHARLIE took a massive dump this morning. He says my error proves some sort of point. Shrug.

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