Darling, We Can't Go On Like This

I thought we could find some common ground, at least enough to get us through a trial period. But those little annoyances we sucked up before the inauguration are at the front of my mind when we finally limp off to bed and I swore to myself I would never go to bed angry.

Now there we are, lying back to back and pretending we’re asleep but quietly fuming over the nothings that just keep coming like the drip-drip from a leaky pipe. Sleep-deprived, I stumble my rumpled morning-self downstairs and even my bathrobe itches. Coffee growing cold at my place, but you’re looking out the window as if there was something interesting out there and your back is turned.

We haven’t seen the fronts of each other in days. Have you noticed how when we walk into a room the dog gets up and moves elsewhere?