My.Saturday.Night.

You must read My. Friday. Night. before this one.
I'm sorry, these aren't going to be exciting tales.
I just need to write them down for my own benefit.

I went home with S.O. Friday night.
All the way home.
"Why did you leave me there with that girl?"
- "Because you needed someone for the porn site."
"Not someone like that"
- "I didn't know what kind of girl you needed."
"But why would you just leave me there?"
- "S.O. I've already told you."

I said nothing.

Next morning is Saturday.
I wake up.
I wake him up with:
"S.O., why did you tell me you wouldn't sleep with the girls?"
- "What? (not awake fully)"
(I realize at this point that I'm acting immaturely, but too hurt to stop)
"Why did you tell your friends that you were sleeping with the girls?"
- "Cause thats what we agreed on." (he grins)
"We didn't." (I do not grin)
- "Is this how I going to be woken up today?"
"Yes."
(He thinks a minute, and I'm guessing, realizes I'm serious)
- "Q.S.W., I'm not going to sleep with them, I just said that."
(I think a minute)
"Because they are guys, and most of them single, and most of them talk about screwing around with girls. So by putting yourself in the situation as the screwer, then you feel like one of them?"
- "Yes." (He actually looks sheepish)

I drop it at that point. Not because I want too, but S.O. knows being cheated on is my number one hurt, and I don't want to emphasize that anymore.

The rest of the day was fine.
I went home, showered, relaxed.
Taste of Tippecanoe was that evening.
It is a mimic of Taste of Chicago.
The fireworks were going to be outside my window.
So I invited S.O. to come over.
He did immediately.
It was 8:30 p.m.

Between that point, and this morning at 7 a.m.
He's left my side for 45 minutes.
Not because I asked him to stay.
Just because he did.
I asked if he wanted to go home.
He just said no.

It relieves me to think I didn't walk away.