"Hey, You Make Me Throw Up a Little"

But maybe it's not you; it might be me.

O.K. so maybe it started out being you. The moodiness and withdrawal leave me feeling isolated, alone and, when admonished for being too loud at midnight, like I should feel bad for being me. Maybe I am as inconsiderate as some think. It isn't intentional, I assure you.

I try to tip-toe around each morning to protect your precious sleep because you are so... so... in need of having things the way you need them. Very inflexible, one might say except that it is wrapped in the presumption that all this is necessary to maintain your good health. So I strive to oblige.

But when I try to sleep, I do not rate the same considerations. Huh. In fact, I'm pretty darn considerate. I am. But why, oh why, aren't you? Do I teach you nothing? And no, it doesn't make it better when you say that I'm just a better person than you. While that may be true, I still expect you make the effort. C'mon. Just do what I do except in reverse.

How hard is that?

Oh, so where was I in my whining about You?

So, maybe it's me. Because I am demanding somehow. You wash my car. I wash your laundry. You cook dinner. I clean up. I clean the toilet. You use the toilet. Oops. Well, maybe that one doesn't seem quite right... You change out the light fixtures and stand on ladders. We both grocery shop but I'm more of a shop-for-awhile person and you're a shop-for-tonight person. These aren't the things that I don't understand.

It's when we act less like we're romantically related and more like we're familialy-related. I don't want to be your sister. I don't have a brother but I'm used to that by now, ya know? You don't have a sister, but if you want one, I suggest looking elsewhere cause that's not the role I want to play. Not that one, not mother and not child. Just so you, know.

Well, you are cute.
And I do love you.
And maybe we're both psycho.

Or maybe you're more psycho than me.

Or maybe this is the most evolved way to be?

And maybe I don't want to be that evolved.

But maybe it's you and not me, at all. There is always that possibility.