Tuesday, March 06, 2012


We're "conflicting" more than usual.  I know her hormones are running kind of stupid, and I'm stressing out from all the stressors that are happening.  But that understanding dosen't really help when we both push the "Fire" button and lob salvos of Mark 8 shells at each other.  So I listen to reggae.  A lot.  And try not to think about sex. 

Fuck, sex sounds fantastic right now.

Our animals have noticed a change in her as well.  They've been sleeping less on our faces and more on her stomach.  I like to think that the know whats up.

My tattleing on our fighting isn't to say that we don't have really good days together.  We went to re-sale shop and had a glorious time looking at all the shoes they had aquired.  Settled on a couple of CD's instead.  Spent a day wrapped in each others arms under the blankets on a Lazy Sunday Morning.

Unfortunatly, like all of history, it's the bad shit that we usually remember most vividly, not the really good times.

I'm crazy in love with her, but I must be crazy for doing so.