The door's two
steps up, so this puts me on eye level with him.
He looks at me, smiles again.
"I'm not coming in?"
"Not unless you start talking."
"I don't deal well with challenges."
"Well, I don't deal well with silence."
Then it's just us, staring at each other.
Tick, tick, tick. Oh no you don't. I
back into the house, and shut the door on his beautiful beautiful face.
Take That, Mr. Conversation Gives Me Hives!
Yay! You won!
You brought up the point, you made the argument, and you didn't
give in! Yippee!
So why do I feel so fucking horrible?