Commute

He read Descartes on the train, cross for a reason he wasn't explaining because he is a man and won't talk. I'd been on to him all morning. "How's your back?" No response. "Is everything ok?" I attempted all manner of silly hand-holding techniques as we engaged in the rare and bizarre event of commuting together. Still nothing. "I'm tired," he said, though he couldn't possibly be tired after having slept eight hours.

At the morning seminar his mouth was downturned and he seemed un-him. It's so distressing to see his good nature disappeared. If he can be counted on for anything, he can be counted on to be happy regardless of what torture he has endured at the hands of others. I wrote him notes and drew him pictures, I even contemplated passing him a note folded into a triangle that said "Omigod! Did you see Adam and Jenny in the hall this morning? Can you believe her makeup? Steve looks like SO HOT today. I hope he sits near us at lunch" but then thought better of it because can you imagine if it went down middle-school style and the CSO confiscated my note and read it out loud to the company?

I can't stand his moods. And it's not that I can't stand them in the way that he can't stand my moods. He'd rather I just not have moods. He doesn't think my moods are justified. He doesn't think moods at all are justified. He thinks everyone should just always be happy. It's not that I don't like being around him when he's in a bad mood. If anything I like when he's in a bad mood because it reminds me that he is human.

I can't stand his moods because I don't want him to be unhappy. Ever. Whatever the cause, his mood is justified. Whatever bothers him should be stopped, not discounted. I wish he would tell me what the moods are about so that I can kill whatever it is that causes them.

After the seminar I worked frantically, hoping to get some work done before the next one. I saw him out of the corner of my eye going into another room, and decided not to say anything. "Do not ask him if everything's alright," I thought, reminding myself of how annoying it is to be asked that question when everything is, in fact, alright.

Two seconds later he appeared in front of me. "Hello," I said. "Hi!" he said. "What are you doing here? Do you need something?" I asked, suspicious of his presence in my workspace. "No, I just came to see you. I came to find you." "What's going on?"

Commence downloading of work-related stress and subsequent return of good-natured, happy, wonderful boyfriend who needed to talk to me.

Yes.

Of course I wanted to shake him and say "Why don't you always do this please please please please PLEASE?" And I wanted to hug him in the lab, but that would have been even worse than passing a note.