Breakfast in Bed

Everybody's got their pet peeves.

Jace's was crumbs in the bed. It didn't matter what it was, if I ate any food at all while sitting on the bed I'd catch hell for it. He had some sort of incredible crumb-finding radar which would cause him to always detect when such a transgression had taken place, and he was remarkably effective in voicing how much this annoyed him.

The relationship came and went, and like most relationships which end for reasons other than the fact the two people don't love each other anymore, the breakup was rocky. It was fraught with teary phone calls, wishing that caring deeply about another person was enough to make a relationship work.

I did still care about him, so I did take the phone calls.

"Hey,"

"Hey,"

There was a long pause, because neither of us had any idea what we were suppose to say.

"I just miss you," he said.

"It's OK."

Another pause. He's getting desperate to make some sort of conversation.

"What are you doing?"

"Sitting in bed, eating a sandwich."

He hung up.

I guess that sums it up.