Breath

            I had to actually punch her in the chest to get her to quit holding her breath. Turns out, it’s hard to keep from breathing when that happens, especially when you’re shocked that someone would actually go that far.

            “What the hell was that?” She asked between heavy breaths. I didn’t understand where that indignant tone came from, though. I had more justification in being angry, I felt.

            “Are you done? Can we cut the shit, now?” I asked, placing my hands on my hips. 

            “What, you care now? When did that happen? You didn’t care yesterday when you were fucking that other woman in my car!” Oh yeah, there was that. I remembered why she had a reason to be mad.  This had been going on for years, I had just kind of taken for granted she wouldn’t find out.  I was reminded of the time my father told me to never assume anything, since it makes an ass of u and me.

            That saying made a lot more sense, all of a sudden.

            “Fine, I understand your frustration, but you could try not reacting so childishly!  Holding your breath? Fucking seriously? You’d rather suddenly take up a kindergarten pass time than talk about it or tell me why you’re angry?  You see why I fuck other people? At least they communicate!”

            “So you couldn’t just leave?” She demanded, breathing fine by now.  “Did you have to rip me to pieces and stay? Why?”

            “Well…”  I stopped short.  Why couldn’t I have left? Surely I had a reason at some point.  I must have.  But what was it? I shook my head, and got out of there.  I’ll figure this out sooner or later.