A Good Fighter

I was a commitment phobe to say the least when I first met Roger.

And well into our dating.

And when I felt the two of us getting really close, I would pick a fight.

Over something super stupid.

Just to put something between us.

I did it a few times.

It was really mature of me...

One particular time, I cannot even remember what it was over, I just got up after having some heated discussions back and forth.

I grabbed my stuff and my keys and stormed out the door of his house.

I looked back as I was headed toward my car and Roger was just standing there watching me.

With these really soulful eyes knowing what was really happening in my head.

He gently asked me not to leave and come back inside.

But I was stubborn.

With tears streaming down my face I left him standing there.

I cried the entire way home back to my apartment.

I walked into my dark bedroom and crashed into my bed.

But I could not sleep of course.

Roger waited for me to make the next move.

And there was no way I could wait till morning.

So I called him.

I cannot remember what we exactly said to each other but I apologized for leaving like that.

And he understood.

Like always.

He was so patient with me.

As I came to terms with how much I loved him.

As I came to terms with the idea of being married to him.

He kept loving me.

With all my silly flaws and quirks.

He loved me.

It was the greatest feeling.

I miss him so much.

My best friend.

My helper.

The one who made me better.