"Fine!" Holly yells, as she collapses onto the couch.
"Fine!" Chris yells back, as he goes out the door and slams it, hard.
Holly huddles on the couch, grasping a pillow to her chest, sobbing her heart out. They just had their first real fight. She can't believe what he expects from her. How dare he assume she'd just go along with his request with no regard for her feelings on the matter.
Nine o'clock on a Tuesday and I'm in bed reading. I feel you in the doorway before I see you. I look up to say hello and the words die in my mouth as our eyes meet. Intimidating is a word most people would use to describe my half of our couple. You're the affable one that everybody loves. You're the perfect boyfriend.
Dr. Randy Wolfe, PhD, stared with purpose into the bathroom mirror as he applied the last bit of near fluorescent, ruby red lipstick to his mouth. Setting it aside, he used a piece of toilet paper as a blotter to dab away any excess, then stepped back to admire his handiwork. Suddenly his deep voice began to reverberate off the walls and ceiling of the small bathroom.
It had been almost eight years since we had said our goodbyes. The time that we were together was like nothing else. It was love and lust, it was life, it was strength and tears and passion and hate and depth and loss and rebirth. It was something that mere words could never justifiably describe. Yet in the end, we knew it was over and that it was time that we moved on with our lives. We must. And though my ache for her would stay with me forever, we did part ways.
I left you a note posted at the door stating: "Strip down naked and meet me in our back room." From the back room, I could hear you laugh as you read it, but I smiled and hoped you would comply. I heard you, first removing your shoes and letting them drop loudly on the floor. The ensuing silence made me think that you might be taunting me, but I let out a sigh as I heard you mumble something about your pants.