“What are you projecting here?” He asked, pointedly.
I didn’t answer. I never could. I had worked myself up so much that I set my own trap. I would rather gnaw off this right hand than say.
“We both know you don’t mean that,” he stated.
He was, of course, right. How could one assume anything but?
“I can’t have you flying off like this every time you have self-doubt,” he assessed.
I just wanted it to end. The tear drops said so.
He leaned in, very close.
“So, are getting sushi or what?” he asked, hugging me.