Nights Like These

You said something, I withdrew my hand. What was said was just the slightest bit too critical for my taste.

And I watched as horror and regret spread over your face. Your eyes filled with sorrow at realizing how what you said had hurt me in an unintended way.

It'd been like that all evening, us out of sync. You in one mood, I in another, and us not fitting together right. That was just the tipping point.

And I watched you. I watched as you tried to explain yourself, as you beat yourself up for knowing how you'd hurt me. I saw.

And so I sighed. I spoke quietly.

"It's okay. I don't want you to beat yourself up over this. I will be okay."

Because no matter the little hurt that I had, you didn't deserve to feel miserable over it. You didn't mean to hurt me. And I hate knowing that I can push you to feel absolutely hellishly upset when something goes wrong.  I hate the way your voice sounds when you feel like the worst person in the world. I despise the way you look when you can't bear the thought of what you've done has upset me.

I didn't want that. Not tonight.

And so I stepped back. You apologized. I told you to be okay, it was okay. We tentatively resumed our plans (even though I had misgivings. Maybe I should've just gone home. Maybe we should've called it a night there.)

It was wonderful. We walked into that restaurant and it was like flipping a light switch. We were most definitely okay. We laughed and teased and delighted in our activities. I couldn't believe that a mere 30 minutes before, I had been considering just leaving.

Nights like these. When we get off on the wrong foot but we both make amends and then everything gets better... This is what shows me how different everything is now. It speaks volumes to me about how what we're doing is good. What we have is good. We try.

Nights like these are everything in us that is right.