iamzach.com

of course, that isn't the right place to start. it's more towards the middle. people like the beginnings, they like the endings, but usually they get bored around the middle. so, let's go back a bit. 'are you sure about all this?' 'no, i'm not. how could i be? could you be sure about something like this? it's inherently risky.' 'yeah, you're right. i guess. i don't know.' 'see?' 'see what?' 'you don't know' 'oh now you're just being annoying.' she got up, gathered her dishes and set them over in the sink, made a point of throwing the silverware down on the cheap plates. she knows he hates loud noises in the morning, especially silverware on porcelain. she's tempted to pick up the fork, the spoon, the knife, just to let them drop again, make him crinkle a bit more newspaper in his fist. instead 'i'm tired of this.' 'tired of what?' 'this. the monotony. the boredom. your emotional distance or at times complete unavailability. sometimes i feel like you don't even see me, when i'm in the same room, standing next to you. i certainly feel like you don't understand that i need you, or why.' he felt his stomach drop. somewhere down between his feet. it rolled a few feet forward and bumped into one of the table legs, stopped. out through the window, the trees blurred into the sky. his eyes fought around for something to focus, and found hers. 'i don't know what to say to this right now. this is not a good time for this right now. not with so much going on.' she held his gaze, which fell from her eyes, to her throat, to the table top, to his half-eaten breakfast. 'jesus listen to me, i can't even put together a decent sentence. where did this come from? i don't understand. you know i love you, i...'