April 21, Good Monday

We made up.

Me and Roger, that is. Apparently I can't stay mad quite as easily as I thought. But then again… I've had a month to simmer over this and miss him… Maybe that was Roger's plan. But I doubt it. I think he was just too stubborn to apologize. Possibly didn't see anything wrong is what he did for a long time either. I know he figured out why I left. He had to have, otherwise he wouldn't—I should start from the beginning. You don't know what "he wouldn't". (I finally remembered that I'm writing this for someone to read.)

I guess I'll start off where I stopped writing, me sitting and crying. I realized you can't see me, I was on the fire escape. Cold, but there weren't any (as cheesy as it sounds) memories out there. After Roger treated me… the way he used to, after Christmas, when he didn't think I was cheating on him and he would take care of me. I was just so surprised when he actually held me like he did after I started to cry. I didn't think that's how someone who didn't trust me would act. And that's probably why I ran away. God, I am such a sap. But I got horribly upset just sitting in my apartment after that… God only knows how much time Roger and I spent in that place and, somehow, it was all just running through my head, over and over.

God, I am such a sappy teenage girl!! Look at what I'm writing… it's like some stupid movie, or a teen novella. I guess, any meager brain power I have left just disappears when I look at the man sleeping next to me.

Did I mention? I'm lying in my bed, on my stomach with my diary propped up on a pillow… and Roger's arm flung over my waist. If I could take a picture without disturbing him… the sun's going through the window (I never replaced the curtains after he ripped them down after our last fight) and… I've never understood that thing about "the sun playing over his features", but that's what it's doing right now. I guess I can't really call him "innocent", everyone knows neither of us are, but he looks like a little boy. Just looks so happy…

I skipped over the entire middle of my story. It's so good that I didn't want to be an author because no one would want to read my books. Books that have no middle? Anyway… I was sitting on my fire escape with a blanket over me. Oh yes, and crying. I really don't know how long I was out there for after I stopped writing, but I came back to my senses when I heard a male voice inside my apartment yelling my name. (I never remember to look my door… which I suppose is good in some situations.) The yelling, of course, caused me to jump in surprise and lose my pen. And that's when Roger figured out where I was. By this point, I was too shocked to remember to cry so there were all these tears were drying—more accurately, freezing—on my face and I'm positive that my nose was red and my make-up was running down my face… that's how Roger found me. This sounds so… not as meaningful when I put it into words, but he just walked over, hugged me and told me I was beautiful. It sounds so random, and meaningless, but it meant so much to me. Whenever Roger used to talk about how lucky he was to have me, the word beautiful always came up. It made me feel like he still wanted to be with me and…

Maybe if it was just that I'd look insane for taking him back. I mean… I can't go around being with every guy who calls me beautiful. That would be problem causing. And then Roger would be right in everything he says.

And I'm rambling. I keep going off on tangents here. Well, he was holding and started wiping the freezing tears off my face… and that's when I remembered to start crying again. He picked me up and carried me back into the apartment, actually setting me down on the bed. Normally, after a huge fight like that, I would have been horrified to have him in my room like that, but I was just so happy that he might take me back that I couldn't… He actually laid down beside me, holding me. In the lowest part of me, I wanted to pull away and yell at him, but after fighting for that long and nearly getting him with me, I just couldn't make myself do it. And then he apologized. Roger Davis actually fucking apologized to me! A big, heartfelt, babbly apology, that had to have been everything he had been thinking since we broke up. But that's not the point. The point is, he did apologize.

He looked so scared when he said it too. Maybe Roger was scared to give away any advantage too… we're just ridiculous and prideful—the two of us. Or maybe he was just scared I wouldn't forgive him? I don't know… I did forgive him. How could I not? He did everything I was holding out for. And I cried. It's really not a surprised. I seem to cry at the drop of a hat lately. I forgave him and I cried and Roger held me and we fell asleep in each other's arms. And then—at maybe midnight—we were awake. And… well… we reconciled physically. Not really a surprise.

And, although it was amazing—make-up sex always is—that wasn't what made me so happy. It was the falling asleep in each other's arms. We never make up by falling asleep in each other's arms… that's a relationship thing. Making up… we generally have sex, then fall asleep exhausted. For some reason when we wake up—everytime!—we're on different sides of the bed and not touching each other at all. But even after we had our traditional make-up sex, we slept in each other's arms again. I woke up this morning and Roger's arms were twined around my waist… my leg was flung over him and my head was pressed up against his chest. It was just… perfect. Showing what we're meant to be.

Hehe, Roger just rolled over onto his stomach and now his arm is back over my waist. He's even automatically touching me in his sleep. I can't believe I ever doubted that this man loved me! I love him too much to be so stupid again… look at how wonderfully he's proved this to me!

Hehe, something more amusing just happened… I have my bedstand/bookcase (Benny bought it for me way long ago), right? And on it is this disposable camera, I almost used it up at my birthday—there's two pictures left on it or something. So, I reach over, carefully, and grab it, then take a picture of Rog sleeping. He still had that whole, adorable, beautiful little boy look to him. I couldn't help it!

And now he's groaning and moving around, I think he's waking up. And even if he's not, I better get up anyway, cuz he keeps "accidently" hitting me with his arm. Dumb musician. (Picture me saying that with a huge grin.) My dumb musician.

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Author's Note: Sorry this took so long… I'm happy to have Mimi and Roger back together, though, I feel so bad for Mimi! :)

Disclaimer: Characters aren't mine, obviously.

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