7 Days

R.B. Winters
R.B. Winters
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525,600 minutes. How do you measure, measure a year? Well, I sure as hell don’t measure it in any musical manner. I am getting the impression that my lover, Dollar, is looking for this magical musical measurement. 
We had the first fight! It wasn’t so much a fight as it was an argument over it being a fight. Let me explain. We were having a few drinks at Dollar’s friend’s house and just talking about random things. Out of the blue he mentioned that we had met a week before. I was just drunk enough to not keep my mouth shut, “Seven days doesn’t mean anything!” I blurted. The reaction was almost instantaneous. Dollar put on his angry face, which I only needed seven seconds to learn, he turned slightly away and took a sip of his beer. I quickly apologized; realizing seven days was a big deal to him, even if to me it was microscopically short. In all honesty, is it that big of a deal? You never hear someone say, “Yeah we’ve been together for three years and a week.”
We then argued back and forth over the fact that he was angry, and the fact that I thought him being angry was a waste of energy. The problem we now ran into was this: When I’m angry I just get over it and I expect others to do the same. Unless I have a good reason to be angry and then I use my philosophy of forgive and never forget, but that’s another topic. When Dollar is angry he remains angry, but withdraws from the situation.
We spent most of the night arguing over him being mad, which followed with an explanation of why he was mad, and an apology from me for speaking without consideration. I still believe that the entire situation was ridiculous. If we had been together a year and I responded in such a way, then yes, please be angry with me. I know I apologized but I can’t say that I meant it, especially when I don’t feel like I did anything to be sorry for.
It only took a day for us to get back on track to happy dating town. Things are going well, I let Dollar come over to my apartment for the first time. That was a feat; I never let guys come home with me, even if we are dating. For the moment things are good, unfortunately I am left to wonder if there is an argument waiting to begin from whatever little thing is building on the tip of my tongue.