Critiques 

I heard my phone chime his text ringtone. I let it lay though. I was preoccupied with dishes and knew myself well enough that if I stopped doing the dishes, I would certainly never get back to them, and they had accumulated quite a bit since the day prior. I have no automatic dishwasher. Just my own two hands and a sink full of soap. 
“I miss you bad.” He had texted. 
“I’m miss you terribly as well baby. I’m home now. Just finished doing all of my dishes. It’s only Tuesday and I had quite a pile. Of course when you have a tiny kitchen even three dishes look like a pile.” 
It was a testament to our communication styles. He was a man of few, but very important and concise words. I was all about details. I wanted to know and inform if things down to the feelings I felt. He just wanted to say it. 

 

It works for us. I do all the talking and he does quite a bit of listening. Which is great because I’m the one who has a lot of feelings to analyze while he admits he is not very in touch with his emotions until they are extremely intense. 
As I waited for his response I started vacuuming. I didn’t know why I had the sudden urge to clean everything, but I did. Maybe it was the feeling that my life had so little going on. Maybe it was the fact that things were so out of my control at work. Maybe it was because it was that time of the month and I needed to control my emotions by investing in something worthwhile. 
I made my bed next. It hadn’t been made in weeks. I even changed the sheets to the only other set I owned, which unfortunately we’re flannel, and it happened to be 89 degrees outside. I didn’t care all that much. I would take a shower every night and put my fan on. Half the time I didn’t even sleep under the covers, even with my AC on. 
I always know when my bed is in too much disarray, because my cat tells me. She refuses to sleep in bed with me if it isn’t made properly, or at least if the blankets are not somewhat flat. Immediately after the bed was made the cat laid herself down at her favorite corner of the bed, right by the window. Daylight streamed over her and she purred with delight. I felt a little more sound myself. I had at least done something productive with my day. 
He hadn’t responded yet. He was probably working on something. Recording for his radio show or shopping for groceries were the most likely possibilities. My guess was the radio show, because it happened to be the only thing that kept him from me during the day. He’d text me at work, he’d text me when he was with his friends, he’d text me watching films preparing for the radio show, but he’d never text me during recording. It was our unspoken understanding. 
I couldn’t remember what film he was critiquing this week for the show. I thought it was “The Interview” but I couldn’t remember. Maybe that was last week? I felt like the worst girlfriend in the world. His passion was so important to him, and I could never even recall what film he was critiquing. I tried to cut myself some slack. I didn’t listen to his show as much as I wanted to, but he had never read a single blog post of mine either. Not that I was keeping count, but I had to remind myself that there are just some interests we didn’t fully share. Film was not my forte. Books were. Graphic design was. Art in general. Unless it was a Wes Anderson, or Tim Burton film, I wasn’t super interested.
I’m kinda picky about my preference in movies. I like really odd films. Works that are practically art pieces. Like “Big Fish” or “Moonrise Kingdom” or “The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus” kind if films. Oddities. Masterpieces. Works of genius. 
He was similar. He liked old black and white films. Horror films. Obscure films that were only released in certain countries. He specialized in the most random and unusual films, while also appreciating films of historical significance. He viewed “The Interview” as a film that was historic in being offensive to the nation of North Korea so much so that North Korea threatened the United States over it. It was an act toward the revolution of freedom of speech. It was released online and gained international acclaim. In doing so it not only sent a message to North Korea, but the entire world that our voice would be heard. 
Personally? I didn’t feel the need to see it. It didn’t impact my life much. It wasn’t weird enough for me. Plus it’s not often I really feel like seeing a comedy. 
My phone finally chimed. “I love you.” It read. 

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