''you want to fuck yourself go right ahead''

''you already told me that when you rejected me in the parking lot.''

I don't know what else was said that night. The pattern, by now, was familiar: Accusations and tears, harsh words, and, eventually, reconcilitation. An attempt at makeup sex, cut short by the sorry state of my inflamed penis. We fell into a wordless cease-fire and, finally, a restless sleep.