this is a recap of life

And I think if I could just get her to take half of my sandwich, it would be okay.

She mutters that she’s not hungry and suddenly neither am I. I have this tendency to equate mundane instances like this one to huge emotional connections. If she would just take half of my damn sandwich, then I’d know she wasn’t mad at me anymore. I’d know things would be okay.

But she doesn’t, and I didn’t figure she would, and I find myself at a loss of both appetite and words.