We get into fights every other day, our relationship is becoming a joke. We can't be together for more than ten minutes at a time without jumping down each other's throats, or accusing the other of sleeping with someone else.

            I look at my watch. I'm supposed to meet Mimi in a half hour, but what I'd really like to do is sleep the day away and make up for some of the sleep I missed last night when Mimi was screaming too loud for the entire block to sleep.

            Well, I could at least nap until it's time to meet her. I lie down on my bed and drift quickly into an uneasy sleep. The last thing I think of before drifting into the world of unreality is wondering what it would be like to sleep forever and wishing at the same time that I could.

            I awake several hours later to the ringing of the phone, and forget for a second that I was supposed to meet Mimi at the club 2 and a half hours ago. It only registers when I hear her voice, a mixed blend of angry English and Spanish, on the answering machine, demanding that I pick up the phone..."that is, if you're not out with another girl."

            I sigh and pick up the phone, bracing myself for the heated argument that I know is coming.

            "Mimi?" I say sleepily into the receiver.

            "Where the hell were you, Roger? You were supposed to meet me at the Life over two hours ago! I waited outside for an hour!"

            "I know, I'm sorry, I fell asleep…"

            "Yeah, on top of someone right?"

            I sigh and rub my aching temples. "Mimi, I was fucking exhausted alright? I was up half the night listening to you screaming…  I said I'm sorry, and I wasn't in someone else's bed, I was in my own."

            I suddenly hear some very loud ranting on the other line and I hold the phone away from my head, cringing when I realize it's still loud enough to give me a headache. Finally, it seems to die down and I risk placing the phone to my ear again.

            "Mimi?"

            I hear her sigh.

            "Roger, this isn't working is it?"

            I pretend not to know what she's talking about. "What's not working?"

            "You know what I mean. Us. This…  There's someone else isn't there?"

            "Mimi, for the last fucking time, I'm not fucking cheating on you!"

            "Alright, fine, I'm sorry..."  I can't help but note the hint of sarcasm in her voice as she says this.  "But what else am I supposed to think Roger? You're so distant all the time, you're mind's always somewhere else, and you 'forget' about half of our dates, leaving me standing alone waiting for you to show up, but you never do."

            Well, she's right about that part at least… 

"I'm not seeing anyone else," I say through clenched teeth.

            "Well, Roger, whatever it is that's going on with you, this isn't working out."

            I nod, not wanting to have this conversation, but then realize she can't see me. "Yeah, I know…I've just had some things on my mind…  Just give me another chance, okay? I promise I won't screw up again."

            "Roger, you say that every other day. Whatever it is you're going through right now, you're obviously incapable of being in a relationship while you go through it…  Are you using again, baby?"

            "No!"  God, can't I just be depressed once in a while without everyone thinking I've gone back to heroin?

            I hear her sigh again. "Alright, fine."

            "I'm sorry, Mimi, I didn't mean to sound so angry…"

            "No, Roger, stop, you apologize to me all the time, but when are you ever going to do anything about it? It's one thing to apologize and keep apologizing for the same things over and over again, and another to actually go and change the thing that needs apologizing in the first place."

            "I know, I'm sorry-"

            She sighs loudly and I shut my mouth, realizing I just did it again.

            This time when I open my mouth I think before I speak and choose my words carefully, realizing that this could either save or end our relationship.

            "I know I've been a little off lately, it's no big deal though, okay? I'll be fine, I just…  Just give me some time and I'll be back to normal before you know it."

            "Ok, I'll give you some time. When you work through whatever you need to work through, give me a call. But until then, I think we should stop seeing each other because to tell you the truth, I'm sick of being in a one-person relationship."

            "No wait, Mimi, I-"

            But it's too late, she's gone and before I know what's happening it's the dial tone I'm protesting to instead of my girlfriend.

            Well, ex girlfriend technically…

            The thought that me and Mimi are over hits me with sudden force and I feel my eyes begin to tear up with unwanted tears.

            It's really over this time…  God, I'm such a jackass sometimes. Mimi's probably the best thing that ever happened to me and what do I do? I fuck it up like always. I'm such an idiot…

            Suddenly I know what I have to do and I go in the bathroom, determined to end all this pain once and for all. I open the cabinet and reach for a razor blade but as I hold it to my wrist I know I don't have the strength to really go through with it.

            So instead I place the blade a little higher up and carve an "M" into my arm, for Mimi. I brace myself for the pain that I'm sure is to come and am surprised when I realize it doesn't.

            I open my eyes, which I realize have been clenched shut, and watch the crimson beads drip slowly down my arm, forming a little river in their path. I just stare at it, mesmerized for a few seconds before I realize how sick this it and tear my eyes away.

            But…I have to admit that that felt…almost good…  That's sick, it should hurt… pain is NOT supposed to feel good…

            But I can't help running the blade over my skin a few more times, reveling in the release of my tension and anxiety. For the first time in two weeks, I feel good…not happy exactly, but not depressed. Like by causing physical pain to myself I'm in control of the emotional pain that has been haunting me for what seems like forever now.

            Suddenly, I hear the front door to the loft open and Mark's footsteps follow shortly after.

            "Roger?"

            I quickly clean myself up, placing a bandage over the wounds, as if by covering them I would forget about how good it felt making them, how relaxed and numb and…  sick. How sick it is to even think something like that.

            I hear Mark call out for me again and I quickly open the cabinet and am about to replace the razor blade but at the last minute, I close it again and instead place the razor in my pocket. Maybe I'll just keep it with me for a while…