Is the 'I Love You' Worth It?
Us and Stuff
“Hey. Hey, hey, hey, hey.”
I’m shaken awake by Tre.
“Mmm,” I mumble, rolling over so he’d leave me alone.
“Hey,” he jabs me in between the shoulder blades. “Lisea.”
“What?” I groan, peeking out from under the quilt over at the alarm clock. 12:07. We just got Ramona asleep at 11:30.
“Do you like things?”
Jesus, why does he have to do this now?
“What?” I sigh, turning back over to face him.
“Do you like things?”
I stare blankly at him.
“You know, things. Things with us?”
“Us?”
“Yeah, you and me. Our, uh, relationship,” he says, reaching over and messing with part of my hair that’s escaped my ponytail. I don't’ think I’ve heard him to refer to our relationship as “us” and it’s kind of freaking me out.
“I don’t get it,” I sniff.
“Well, you know, like, do you like how it is, how we’re together?”
Oh shit. He’s breaking up with me. Just like I was afraid of way back. He stayed with me just until the baby was born and now he’s going to move on to some girl who’s prettier and doesn’t have a baby.
“Do you?” his voice brings me out of my panicky thoughts.
“Um, yes?” I stall, fishing for what I hope is the right answer. He flashes me a childish grin.
“Really?”
“Uh, yeah,” I say, trying to read what he’s thinking.
“Oh,” he says, sliding his arms around my waist and settling into his pillow.
“Wait, why?” I say as he closes his eyes. “Are you unhappy?”
He cracks one eye open.
“No.”
“Well, then why are you asking me all these cryptic questions?” I squeak out of frustration, trying to keep my voice down to not wake up Ramona.
“I, I’m not. I just was thinking you know, like, that maybe since Ramona’s here and all that we should get married. But if you want to stay just like it is now, I don’t want you to be, like, forced into anything you don’t want to be in.”
“Serious?” I ask, attempting to pull away from him as he tries to kiss my nose.
“Yeah,” he says sounding confused, and pulling my face to his so he can accomplish kissing me.
“Well,” I say. “I just thought… never mind.”
“What?”
“I just thought you wouldn’t… never mind.”
“Never mind,” he giggles. “Never mind, never mind.”
“Stop making fun of me,” I put.
“So. What’s your thoughts?” he yawns so hard his jaw cracks.
“You honestly think my mother will let you keep your genitalia if you don't marry me?” I laugh, putting my arms around his neck and hugging him.
“Yeah,” he gulps. “There’s always that.”
I’m shaken awake by Tre.
“Mmm,” I mumble, rolling over so he’d leave me alone.
“Hey,” he jabs me in between the shoulder blades. “Lisea.”
“What?” I groan, peeking out from under the quilt over at the alarm clock. 12:07. We just got Ramona asleep at 11:30.
“Do you like things?”
Jesus, why does he have to do this now?
“What?” I sigh, turning back over to face him.
“Do you like things?”
I stare blankly at him.
“You know, things. Things with us?”
“Us?”
“Yeah, you and me. Our, uh, relationship,” he says, reaching over and messing with part of my hair that’s escaped my ponytail. I don't’ think I’ve heard him to refer to our relationship as “us” and it’s kind of freaking me out.
“I don’t get it,” I sniff.
“Well, you know, like, do you like how it is, how we’re together?”
Oh shit. He’s breaking up with me. Just like I was afraid of way back. He stayed with me just until the baby was born and now he’s going to move on to some girl who’s prettier and doesn’t have a baby.
“Do you?” his voice brings me out of my panicky thoughts.
“Um, yes?” I stall, fishing for what I hope is the right answer. He flashes me a childish grin.
“Really?”
“Uh, yeah,” I say, trying to read what he’s thinking.
“Oh,” he says, sliding his arms around my waist and settling into his pillow.
“Wait, why?” I say as he closes his eyes. “Are you unhappy?”
He cracks one eye open.
“No.”
“Well, then why are you asking me all these cryptic questions?” I squeak out of frustration, trying to keep my voice down to not wake up Ramona.
“I, I’m not. I just was thinking you know, like, that maybe since Ramona’s here and all that we should get married. But if you want to stay just like it is now, I don’t want you to be, like, forced into anything you don’t want to be in.”
“Serious?” I ask, attempting to pull away from him as he tries to kiss my nose.
“Yeah,” he says sounding confused, and pulling my face to his so he can accomplish kissing me.
“Well,” I say. “I just thought… never mind.”
“What?”
“I just thought you wouldn’t… never mind.”
“Never mind,” he giggles. “Never mind, never mind.”
“Stop making fun of me,” I put.
“So. What’s your thoughts?” he yawns so hard his jaw cracks.
“You honestly think my mother will let you keep your genitalia if you don't marry me?” I laugh, putting my arms around his neck and hugging him.
“Yeah,” he gulps. “There’s always that.”