Lying in bed closing my eyes- It feels like a Saturday when I�m little and it�s too early to get out of bed but its 1:00 in the afternoon. The cats are lying around me, feeding off my sadness, knowing I won�t be moving or rolling over anytime soon. They sleep; I stare at the wall and the ceiling. He moves one of the cats sweetly and gets into bed behind me. He curls loosely around my tight body. I�ve listened to him live his life all morning while counting the minutes on his alarm clock. I ask him what�s wrong with us; I ask him if he can fix it. He says some things in a tone that I don�t like-the tone that gives me the real answers. I cry some on his pillow avoiding his arms that are behind my head so he doesn�t know. I don�t want him to stop talking. Some words are louder, some words are more familiar than others, some less. He loves me but there are new things- it feels like its all business and we�re buddies� and I know that it�s only sometimes. He asks me if I understand- and I say the words back to him, focusing on my voice. And I think about what he�s saying. I like our business side, the family, the dates, everything. I don�t feel like his buddy- I don�t want to be his buddy and I tell him that. We speak of passion and he tells me it�s missing and where it�s missing from. I listen and sigh and tell him that I don�t believe that is what passion is but, yes that is what is missing.
I write this so I can forget it for a little while. We keep forgetting to laugh, trying to apologize but still placing blame, and we put so much pressure on the unknown.

We spend the rest of the afternoon, laughing and touching and not planning... all of the things we forget to do. I think we may need some help with balance.

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