Dating : That time he spoke my love language

It was him. He wanted to apologize. I wanted to go to sleep. After a bit of back-and-forth, and what was clearly the sound of a get-together going on behind him, he wanted to leave. He couldn’t have been with whomever this loud group was behind him long. I hadn’t even changed my clothes. I only lived about 15 minutes from his home. I sighed. I told him to give me awhile to put on my own pajamas, and I’d come back.

I had no desire to stay long. I just wanted to know why he made the decision that he did. I would keep my coat on over my pajamas, talk briefly and return home. On my drive back, I thought of my love language. I thought of how I would never want to to be with anyone who did not want to spend “Quality Time” with me. To me, the two of us were pretty much a bust.

When I walked in the door, I noticed a set of maroon candles were lit. Maroon is my favorite color. But he doesn’t know that. Hell, maybe he did. It’s kinda hard to miss it in my place, filled with maroon decor. Half my closet of clothing, my makeup and even my comforter was maroon Whatever. I was going to get my sandwich from the half-eaten platter and leave.

“Are you going to take your coat off?” he asked me.

I shook my head no.

“I don’t know who else is going to knock on your door,” I said. “I’ll wait to see if there are any other surprise visitors.”

He sighed and rolled his eyes. This was not a man who was going to apologize profusely. After he’d apologized once, you could tell he was done. And I knew he was officially done when he picked up the remote control. How rude could he be? First it was surprise guests. Now this fool was about to watch television. I started to button my coat. I started in the direction of the door, with a vine of grapes in my hand. Dammit, I was not going to let the fraternity guy be the only one eating those grapes. They were for me.

We made eye contact, and I could see a smug smile crossing his face. He looked from me to the TV. And then I looked. And I saw the circle head first. Then the yellow shirt. Then the zigzag. On that screen, he’d not only put in a Peanuts movie. He somehow found “Happy New Year, Charlie Brown” — my favorite Peanuts movie of them all. I don’t even remember telling him this. I mumbled it just then. He responded, “I know.”

I unbuttoned my coat and sat down, staring at the TV. Only “Quality Time” could figure out such a way to apologize.