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I don't understand it at all, and I really wonder if it's just me who's wired wrong, or if it's everyone else too.  But I think it would be really comforting to know that everybody in the world has such an utter self-loathing part of them that they would really self-destruct if given the chance.

And so I say something.  I ruin it all, "What really hurts is that you know this is a problem I have, and you're refusing to discuss any kind of compromise." I say.  So there.  Nyah nyah nyah.  "Compromise?  What the fuck?!  What kind of compromise do you want?  Syllables?"

"Just forget it,"  I say, and yes, those are the last words spoken for the next hour and a half.  I swear, he must've gone through some kind of endurance training when he was a kid.  He went to Silent Camp.  They sit you in the corner for eighteen hours a day and blare lots of loud music, or throw garbage at you and if you make one peep, you have to walk a mile over hot coals and if you make any kind of sound THEN, then you have to swim across the lake carrying ten pounds of beans on your back or something. 


Yes, young grasshopper, he has been schooled well in the silence arts.  I have been schooled well in the stupid arts.  I graduated magna cum laude.

We get home, and it's just like all the other times.  I grab my bag, hop out, slam the door and head for the house without looking back as I hear the car drive away.  Without a word.  From either him or me.  What a great day.  What a fucking great life to come back to.