I closed my eyes and felt that sudden longing that lovers feel when the presence of their better half is absent. I ignored it to the point of denial and held it there in a desperate embrace; I was afraid. My breath deserted me as I heard the creaks of the wooden steps and the hallow door shut. I found that I had collapsed into the floor. My knees buckled beneath me and the numb sensation tingled throughout my body. The room grew hazy and the broken shattered piece of glass that was thrown in a fit of passion crinkled underneath my hand. I left my hand stationary as it was until I noticed that that piece of glass had woven istelf within my cold flesh. I felt the warm trickle of blood drip down to the end of my elbow as I stared in bewilderment of my hand. It looked like paint and it felt like paint. That is what it was, paint. We were painting. And some of it just happened to get on me. I was just being my clumsy self, that's all. He left to fetch some paper towels and the door will open and he will smile, and just call me cutsie-clumsy, in his baby voice, like he always does, like he alway always does... Everything will be all right and I will hear him say, "I love you," and then we'll clean up the pain paint so I won't look like a mess anymore. And we'll both be in love again.

thanks baby

...i know i can be clumsy sometimes...

Wait, don't go yet, I just found that I got it all over my shirt. I don't know how it got there. Are you getting more towels? Baby?...

Yeah, he's getting more towels...yeah...

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