And oh, stupid things I do. I'm far from good, it's true. But still, I find you, next to me.

We're fighting. It's not a blowup kind of fight...yet. Aliza is stubborn, and when I asked her very gently if she's on her period, she became a demon in two seconds. Lesson learned those words would never leave my lips again. 

I know I'm right, though, cause she gets like this every time. We weren't living together. I may be hiding right now because her emotions are out of whack, and I left her crying over a postcard with a puppy that she found in one of the shops on our way to the Realtor. 

I'll wait outside for her; it's safer here. I rub the tip of my middle finger; there's still some traces of paint. After our little adventure, my painting wasn't near done, so I've been painting for a couple of hours every day to finish it.

Aliza's very excited about it, although she hasn't seen the finished product, she gushed over it when she saw what I was doing. It's almost finished now, and I can't wait to show it to her. 

She comes out of the shop smiling brightly. Well fuck. She's pinching the postcard between her fingers and waving it in the air. "Got it, let's go." She links her arms with mine, and I'm too speechless to say anything as we continue walking down the road. 

We make it to the location, and I already know I'm wasting my time; I knew the description she gave me was too good to be true. It's nothing but an abandoned building, probably condemned also. 

I'm already in a pissed mood, and now this. Today was suppose to be a relaxing day, the only Sunday I get of in weeks, which I really wanted to spend with Aliza. Wanted, not so sure anymore. I crack a smile at my own joke as we stand in front of the door, waiting for the realtor, who's late. 

"So sorry, traffic." He apologizes halfheartedly while fiddling with the keys to open the place. "I'm Robert." He sticks out her hand, and I shake it quickly. He pushes the heavy door open with both hands, and it groans from having to move. He searches for the lights, turning them on once He finds them. 

I was right. You can already smell the mold from here. There's water dripping from the ceiling, with brown patches littering the roof. This is why you could afford the place. I look at Aliza; her face says it all. She looks disappointing, her lip is tucked into her mouth, and she scrunches her nose.  "Mold," I say out loud.

Robert turns to me. "There's no mold here; there's a certificate for inspection." I'll bet all my savings that there's mold. "There's mold," I say again; I don't want to start an argument, but I'm also not one to stay quiet. 

Aliza wraps her hand around mine; the spark calms me down some. Robert stays quiet next to me. "So shall we?" He gestures into the open space. We walk further into the room, and it just seems to get worse as we go. Aliza slips on some goo, but she steadies herself on my arms. Thank God she decided to wear shoes today. 

I don't want to know what the yellow substance on the floor is. We're standing in the middle now, and I honestly can't find one positive thing about this place. "It's a fixer," Robert says. I snort, and Aliza giggles next to me. "It's a burn it downer," I tell him, staring into his eyes.

I look at Aliza. "Purple hyacinth." She looks at me with a sad expression. She hugs my arm.

He tries to make himself smaller for some reason, probably because he took me for an idiot. "It's condemned, isn't it? I ask him, but she shakes his head. I'm already on edge from almost fighting with Aliza the whole morning, and now standing in this shit hole, I'm starting to get angry. 

"Maybe it could work If you look at it for what it could be?" Aliza tries, bless her fucking soul right now. "I wouldn't even sleep here." Her eyes grow wide at my statement. I'm about to cry out of anger and frustration. I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up. She turns to the realtor, now also seemingly angry.

I'm not surprised; I've experienced every emotion with her since we woke up, which was only about four hours ago. "It's shit." Her words shock me as she speaks firmly to the realtor. Hearing her swear will always catch me off guard. I've come to realize that she has a slight temper, but it happens so rarely it's easy to forget. 

She's also a firm believer in standing up for yourself, in the kindest way possible, of course, and others. The realtor swallows loudly. "It fits the price range." He tells her. I can't be mad at his statement. My savings were cut in half from fixing the house, but I do remember explicitly telling Robert that I can give a significant down payment, I don't have to buy it outright.

"Doesn't make up for the fact that you brought us to a condemned building, knowing there's no chance in hell Harry will go for it." She states. Irritation flashes over his face. He turns to me, ignoring her. Not the right move, man. 

"I can get you the papers; it's not condemned, it's just been neglected." He may be right, and maybe we're both just in bad moods. "You said to him in your email last night that the building was move-in ready." She says even though he's not looking at her. That's also the reason I'm pissed; he did say that.

After we got home, there was an email confirming that the building was move-in ready and that it fits all my requirements. "Excuse me but are you the one buying, because I've been talking to Harry, as far as I know, miss."

She turns red, and her fist clenches against her side. "Well then, excuse me, sir, for caring that you lured him here under pretenses." He turns to me again. "I'm the one talking to you right now; look at me." Even I'm slightly scared of her right now.

"You're wasting my time, miss." He says to her, and I think I see the exact moment when she snaps. "We're waiting your time?" She laughs. "Unbelievable, listen, SIR, go fuck yourself." She says firmly, and she's already storming away. 

I take a quick look at Robert, and he seems a bit pale, but I turn quickly, following Aliza out of the building. She's storming up the street. I run to catch up to her. "Aliza," I yell, and she stops, waiting for me. "I know it wasn't my place." She says softly. 

"No, that was.. fucking brilliant," I tell her with a smile. "Come here." I pull her closer. "I'm angry." She says into my chest. She's still shaking slightly. "My little fighter," I say into her hair as I bend down to kiss her head. 

"We'll find the right place." She promises me, and I hold her tighter. "I know we will, it's just been a bad day and now this," I tell her honestly. She doesn't answer me; she molds into my body. "Let's go get ice cream." She says. She pulls back from me. "You want ice cream?" I ask, confused. "Yes." She answers shortly, and with a shrug, I take her hand as we start walking up the street. Definitely on her period. 

She eventually gets her ice cream, and we sit at the picnic table outside the shop to enjoy the summer sun. We stop at a few random stores and walk home afterward. The day spirals a little from there, and by 2 pm, I want to rip my hair out. 

The final straw is when I trip over one of her sneakers by the coffee table. "I've asked you to please just put your shoes against the wall," I tell her, rounding the kitchen. She's sitting on the counter, eating cookies. She looks up at me,  not amused for interrupting her. 

"Like I've asked you a hundred times not to put almost empty containers back in the fridge." She holds the bottle of cheese spread out to me, and it is, in fact, almost empty. "Because it's not empty yet, why would I waste it?"

It makes sense if you think about it. She scrapes some of the cheese from the sides with a spoon and put it on a cracker. She's proving my point right now. 

"You never close a cupboard when you finished; I walk into the doors all the time." My voice is rising in anger.

"You can never put something back to its original place!" Okay, so she's not holding back either. 

"Well, at least I put it back!" I shout at her; she narrows her eyes at me. She jumps from the counter, stalking towards me. Oh shit. "It's not my fault you need to be praised for every little thing you do!" Our toes are almost touching.

"You have a gift of losing everything and never finding it again!" God, I'm about to lose my shit. 

"You use my razor!" 
"You use my shampoo!"
"You're a brat!"
"Cause I have to be at your level right now." She shouts, drawing it out with a high squeal. She storms off. I fall against the wall. Fucking woman. I brush my hand through my hair angrily. 

I didn't even mean anything; I just said. Now you have to go and apologize. I'm stubborn, so I'm not going to right now. I find her in the living room, arms crossed and staring at the wall. Her face turns into a scold when she sees me.

 I'm already caving because all I can think about is how beautiful she is sitting on the couch in her flower shirt and denim shorts. 

Her hair is wild today, a messy knot on her head, half of it falling out cause it's so short. How do you grovel?  I'm never fighting again, it's not worth it, and now it's awkward.  

I sit next to her on the couch, but she gets up and storms to the bedroom. Okay, fuck this right about now. She can be mad, but' she's not running away from me. I storm after her, mad again. Maybe you're the one on your period. She's lying face down on the bed, like a teenager who's having a tantrum.

Well, she kind of looks like one too. I walk to her, and when the bed dips, she rolls over, away from me. I crawl closer, but she's of the other end already running to the door. I'm faster, so I catch her by the waist, and I have to say the burning is pretty intense. 

"Stop running from me," I tell her as she squirms in my arms. "I'm mad at you." I'm mad, too, but I'm not letting her run or sulk the whole day. "I love it when you use my shampoo," I tell her. "I'm sorry, I ran out of things to complain about because I'm fucking lucky with you." I'll let her know the truth; it sounds like groveling to me.

"There are so little things that bother me; I love everything about you, I don't care about the rest. I don't care that I have to search for your shop keys every day or that your headbands poke me in the butt." Her armor resolves, and she leans into me. 

"I don't care about those things," I repeat myself. "I'm sorry too." She murmurs. "I'm the lucky one." She adds. I fold her into me, wrapping myself around her. I move us to the bed, and she turns around to hold her from the back. She's right where she belongs now, next to me. "I also didn't mean to yell; I'm just in a sour mood." She says. I kiss her hair. "I forgive you, couples fight."

"Yea, they do; I read somewhere that if you get annoyed with your partner, it's a sign of love." She says, playing with my fingers, that's resting on her waist. "Well, then I love you a whole lot today." She giggles, her shoulders shaking slightly.

 "Still want me?" I ask. "More and more every day. I love you too." I close my eyes. "Also, I'm on my period." She says. I knew it!

I decide not to say anything for fear of losing my fingers, but I do smile. I put my hand on her stomach, under her shirt.

 "That feels nice." I always do it for her. She tells me I radiate warmth from my hands. I hold her in silence, and her breathing soon evens out as she falls asleep. I don't remove my hand. I'd do anything for this woman. 

Mkay Bye!