I CAN SMELL BACON
AND EGGS AND COFFEE
AND BREAD
June 6th 2007

I try to sleep on the brown couch next to Tiffany, but my neck keeps throbbing and I can't get comfortable, so although I don't want to leave her alone, I end up going to the bedroom upstairs. In the morning, I wake up with a start. I look at the clock and see that it's later than I usually wake up, and I worry that something might have happened to Tiffany. When I check, she's still sound asleep on the sofa, and I relax. I keep hoping that when she wakes up, she won't remember anything from last night, and she won't remember she is mad at me. But deep down I know better than that. I get changed, go downstairs and start preparing breakfast. Once I finish, I wonder if I should wake Tiffany up, but I also worry that if I do she'll have a go at me, so in the end I eat alone and decide that if she wants some breakfast later on, I will cook it for her. Every Sunday, before taking the train to Collingswood, Tiffany and I have been doing a short running routine –less than five miles—, but this time I don't go because I don't want to leave her alone. Since we are not scheduled to meet with any of our families, I know Tiffany will be able to rest for the whole day, but I also know that I will likely spend it on my own.

I wait for her to wake up, and in the meantime I finish marking the papers from last night. Finally, around mid-day, Tiffany wakes up. She groans almost as soon as her eyes open and her hand goes to her forehead, which lets me know she has a really bad hangover. I quickly fetch some water and offer her a glass. She tries to decline –which tells me she remembers what happened and is still angry— but I press on and in the end she gives up. After she's had some more water, she leans back on the couch and after a few seconds her breathing gets even, which means she's fallen back asleep. I know she should eat something because her stomach must be empty from last night, but I also want to let her rest because she needs it and because, if I am honest with you, I don't want to face her wrath when she wakes up.

I cook lunch to the best of my abilities, because Tiffany is always the one to tell me what to do or help me if I need it whenever I'm cooking, but I still manage to do some pasta and it turns out really well, which makes me happy. When the clock says 1:30pm, I make up my mind about Tiffany, knowing right now she's in a very fragile state and that I am the one that has to look after her, which means I have to make sure she eats something.

I go over to her and intent to shake her, but turns out she's already awake, just laying on the sofa, because before I can do anything she says "Go away."

Since she's clearly still in a very negative mood, I decide to do as I'm told. I go upstairs to give Tiffany some space, and start planning my lessons for this week. When I come back down, I can smell bacon and eggs and coffee and bread which means Tiffany is in the kitchen and having breakfast. I relax a little, because it means that at least she's not being self-destructive and is putting food into her system. I go to the kitchen, and see her seating there, calmly eating the food. Her hair is a mess, but I notice it doesn't have any vomit on it and I am proud to have held her hair like that last night. Tiffany does not look at me, but I decide to give it another shot.

"I'm sorry" I say. She doesn't react.

"Tiff. I'm sorry about what I said last night. Please don't be angry."

She continues to eat her food, forgetting that I am here.

"It was a stupid idea. And I am over Nikki. And I do love you. And nothing's ever going to change that, okay?"

Suddenly she stands up and leaves the room. This makes me sad because it means she's still very much angry at me, and I worry that she will give me the silent treatment for the rest of the week, because I really don't want that to happen.

Upstairs, I can hear the shower going on, and then everything starts to get worse. I worry that Tiffany will never want to speak to me again. I worry that this is it and I've blown my chance with her like I did with Nikki, all because of a silly idea. I worry that I have let my parents down, specially my mother, and that Tiffany will ask me to move out of the house and Mom will not let me stay at her house because she is angry that I blew my chance with Tiffany and Ronnie and Veronica will blame me too and so will Tiffany's parents and the rest of the world will hate me forever and how could I have been so fucking stupid and—

I need to get out.

I am running out of the house before I have another of my episodes.

I run for a long time, so long that when I come back the sun is almost completely down.

When I step back inside the house, I am much calmer. The running helped and I see things clearer now. I notice Tiffany is back on the sofa, her hair in a ponytail and with different clothes, watching some TV. I realize that all my thoughts were wrong, because if she hasn't left me already it means she doesn't plan to, she's simply still angry. Knowing her like I do, I have a feeling she'll be like that for a couple of days, and then she'll start talking to me again and everything will go back to normal. So this time I don't try to apologize at all. Instead, I go upstairs, have a shower and get in bed. I pick up one of the books Tiffany suggested that I read, called Brave New World, and read until it's way past dinner time. The book is about a dystopian society that has figured out how to apply the process of mass production to actual human beings and everyone is divided into five categories and there's a lot of characters which talk in a funny way because the novel takes place in Britain, and not anywhere in America. Although it's really weird because they never mention God's name (even when saying the regular 'oh my God') I get hopeful that there will be a silver lining towards the end and the book will have a happy ending. I glance at the clock, which says 10pm, go down, and notice that all the lights are off and Tiffany is already sleeping (or pretending to sleep) in the living room. I want to tell her that she can have the bed if she wants to, but I know that she'll just reject my offer anyway so I don't attempt anything.

I go to the kitchen to get something to eat, but since I don't want to wake her up in case she's really asleep, I end up having some cereals, and then go back upstairs and try to sleep.

The rest of the week goes exactly as I had feared. I wake up every morning just to find that Tiffany is already in the shower, so I have to make breakfast all by myself. When I finish, I wait for her to join me, but she never does. She simply gets ready and then leaves for her morning shift at the studio, where she helps out in the dance lessons for adults. I do the same, and leave for work every morning hoping that when I come back she'll be ready to talk to me again. But she doesn't. Since Tiffany has now been appointed to lead the afternoon dance sessions –where she teaches ballet with a mixture of modern dance to little kids— I usually come from work way before she does. I get started on dinner, but whenever Tiffany gets back, she never joins me. The first couple of days I remain positive, because I know she usually cools down after two days, but when Wednesday comes along and she still hasn't spoken to me, I start to get worried. Once or twice I actually try to make conversation with her, about the weather or her work because I have a feeling she will scream if I try to apologize again, but she still ignores me. Thursday and Friday come and go, and still nothing.

On Saturday, knowing that there is no way Tiffany will want to spend it together, I wake up, get changed and go on a run. I must run for at least seven miles, because when I get back my leg is throbbing so much that I can barely walk and that tells me I have overworked it. Still, I have a shower and then continue my day as the rest of the week has been. At some point I hear Tiffany leave the house, but I don't worry because I know she'll be back soon. Since Sunday, she hasn't run away like that. When she's not back by dinner time, I get started on it myself. I try to cook an Asian-style stir fry, since we have one of those 'ready to serve' packets and because it reminds me of Cliff –who I haven't seen for a few weeks because I haven't been to an Eagles game recently— but somehow I end up burning it a bit. It still tastes nice though, and I sit down to eat myself, thinking tonight will be another lonely night, when the most wonderful thing happens. Tiffany, back from her run, comes into the kitchen, serves herself a plate of rice and sits down to eat with me. I look up at her, but she's engrossed in the food, or perhaps simply ignoring me. So I play along and say nothing. After a while, she finally speaks.

"Did you make this?" She asks.

"Yeah, from one of those 'ready to eat' meals" I say, a bit wary of how she's going to react.

"It's burned" She says, but her tone is soft instead of rude or blunt.

"I know. I don't know how that happened."

She continues to eat in silence, and I start to think that this will be it and she won't speak o me for another week, when she says, "Thanks for the Tylenol, it really helped."

I keep silent for a few seconds, not knowing what to say because I have a feeling that if I say the wrong thing, I'll blow everything again. But then she looks up at me, with her gorgeous green eyes and I can see she is begging me to speak so end the end I can't stand I and say,

"I'm sorry, I was a fool, I shouldn't—"

"No" She cuts me. I think she is going to get mad at me and tell me to shut up or something, but she continues. "I'm sorry."

Since it takes me by surprise, I remain silent, and she takes it as her cue to continue.

"I shouldn't have run away like that." She sighs. "Partly of why I didn't want to talk to you is because I was mad at myself that I broke the promise I made you, and I knew I had to apologize and you know I hate that. So I guess I'm sorry twice over –once for running away like that, and twice for not apologizing sooner."

"No Tiffany, I shouldn't have suggested that, it was a stupid idea and I want you to know that I love you, not the idea of having children with you. I had never thought of that before, not even when we got together. I love you, I love your eyes, your nose, your lips, your face, your hair, your legs… I love the way you look at me in the mornings, I love the way we dance together and you always end up throwing us both on the ground to kiss me, I love the way you arch your eyebrow when you tease me" She smiles at this. "I love how you smile when I say I love you. Tiffany, I love you, and nothing's ever going to change that, okay? Even if we never have kids and instead we grow old side by side, I will still love your beautiful, crumpled self."

She laughs a little, and I know that there is hope and everything will be saved.

"It's okay," she tells me. "I get it. I just… have some trust issues, which is why I reacted like that, but I'm working on them. Besides, I have a hard enough time taking care of myself… I don't want to have to take care of a child too. Can you understand that, Pat?"

I tell her that of course I do, and that I hadn't thought things through when I said that because I am an idiot who has no filter, and she laughs.

She looks so beautiful when she does this, that I stand up and plant a kiss on her lips, and when she doesn't pull away I smile inside. She leans deeper into the kiss and then we are both panting, wanting more, more. It feels like it's been so long since we last were together that we stumble as we make our way upstairs, unable to get enough of one another.

As I lay her semi-naked self on the bed, I realize I am lucky to have such a wonderful woman into my life, and I promise myself I will try to never upset her again.