*Beta'd by sendtherain
...
9. I Talk Too Much
I'm unaware – completely – that I'm rambling almost as fast as my husband can when he's excited. I think said husband is listening intently as I rail on about something that happened at work, something stupid, something that was both good and bad and I can't stop talking about.
"And so then –" I stop talking to laugh. "I can't believe it. Can you believe that, Barry?" I smack his chest lightly. He winces, but not because it hurt.
"He – they – it actually, oh my God."
He forces a smile. "Mhmm."
"Barry, are you listening?" I frown.
He nods. "Yep." So I continue.
It's not until several minutes later, when honestly I've forgotten what I was talking about and started repeating myself, that I realize Barry has been awfully quiet. I think to myself have I been talking this whole time?
"Barry, what was I talking about?" I ask, the fact that he was falling asleep beyond me and not worth discussing because it hasn't really hit me yet.
"Um…"
"Oh, never mind, I remember."
"Oh, no, you don't." He sits up quickly and leans in with a rush.
"What – Mmm," comes my muffled moan, and I think to myself, maybe kissing is better than talking right now.
