this morning #1402.

this morning, we were speaking completely different languages. blah after blah after blah. a furious blur of spurious words. by the time that i finally fell silent, my throat felt dry. strained. my main concern was that we’d reached an impasse. he tried to get one last plea in & i stopped him. told him to hold on. i needed to go grab a glass of water. asked if he wanted one too. with a goofy smile, he nodded & told me to “make mine a double.” i rolled my eyes & the air in the room opened up a bit. then he ruined it. from the kitchen, i heard him mumble something. he always does that. i don’t get it. he knows i can’t hear what he’s saying from in here. he’ll have to repeat himself & the cycle will just continue.