I've tried very hard not to let him know the monster that emerges from within myself when I become frustrated, but last night I let that ugliness seep out into plain view where he could see it all.

This relationship is a more premeditated affair than my last one. With my old boyfriend I didn't care if he saw me being nasty, I didn't mind if I yelled at him or hung up the phone. Now I do. I don't want the new boy to think of me as some kind of uncontrollable animal who needs to be let alone to stew in her juices every so often because she's having an episode.

Yesterday he was sick. I only wanted to take care of him. I never thought of myself as a nurturing person yet for some reason I find myself catering to maternal stereotypes when I am with him. I want him to be happy, to feel good. I wanted to drive him to the grocery store but he was making a huge production out of it, debating the timeline and wondering when we would get home. I only wanted him to say, "I'd love it if you did that for me." Perhaps that's asking a bit much, but people want to feel needed and I am no exception. We all want to swoop in and save the day once in awhile and when someone second guesses my good intentions it makes me feel like a fool. So I got into a bit of a mood. I wouldn't look him in the eye; I suggested we spend the night separately. Right when I got home and flopped back into my pillows I regretted saying that. I really did want him there with me, but he was sick and needed to rest and the world wouldn't end if we were apart for one night. At the time I had suggested we sleep separately I was beginning to feel a bit smothered, like we had spent too much time together. "Fish and visitors stink after three days," my father always said.

I laid on my bed and watched the ceiling fan spin and played little scenarios in my mind. I'm really a danger to myself when alone; I have a way of concocting theories and storyboards which may or may not be true. During my stint at the grocery store I was the director of many films while repetitively running food across the scanner. It was a way to stay sane. As a child I would scrawl the plots of sitcoms in a marble notebook starring teachers I had in school. I've always written, always invented things. But sometimes having an imagination can mangle reality. Last night I envisioned what had happened after I dropped him off. Perhaps he would head downtown with some of his buddies, drink himself into oblivion, and upon remembering that I had been curt with him, take home a pretty girl. Then I'd stop by the next day and she'd answer the door; I'd put the pieces together and run off crying while he chased after me. Or maybe instead of cheating on me he would simply send me a text message stating he couldn't do it anymore and that we were over. Or perhaps...

After the third Lifetime movie my brain got tired of assuming the worst and my eyes closed for longer than a blink. I was faintly trying to figure out why I always think people I love are going to leave me. I wish I could jump past that hurdle, I wish I could simply be in a relationship without trying to predict how it will end. I was always pushing my old boyfriend away, always trying to see how much he would put up with. He put up with a lot; I came to think he would stay through anything. Maybe it was my mother's fault, maybe it was my father. At this point I was too tired to consider any more culprits, and I drifted off to sleep.

I slept for a long time. I had been in the sun all day. The sun dries me out and makes me weary; when I'm out too long I feel like I have been hit by a truck. That's probably why I had been cranky the night before. This morning I felt renewed. I went to work, went for a run, bought him dinner and we watched TV. We were fine. His eyes seemed warm and there wasn't a trace of anger or resentment. I'm not spending the night...something isn't quite agreeing with my stomach and I can't bring myself to fart in front of him. I wonder if people who are married ever fart in front of one another. It's not that I think we're going to get married, I just wonder if I'll ever feel that comfortable around him and if I ever should.