June 14, 2004

We had a fight today.
I alternated between wanting to cry and wanting to throw something at him.
Once he went to bed, I broke.
I know he could hear me.
But he never come out of the bedroom.
It's probably for the best that he stayed in there.
Because I didn't want to see him.
Or talk to him.
Now I'm just sitting here.
Nursing an aching heart.