Getting soaked, I rode the scooter home in the rain. As the gears ground and slipped, I made lists in my head for an entry about the nature of the opposition of our needs. I was going to say something about how we're getting worse at fighting (or arguing) and ask rhetorically whether or not you think that's a bad sign. By the time I got home, careful not to skid on the slippery driveway moss, I had it all mapped out: cautious, yet loving; questioning, yet confident. I came in the door all shoe squeaks and dripping and shucked off layers until I reached the computer chair. I ran through my short routine and the whole ride's work was wiped out by a few words and the dull thud of jealousy. Someday, and I think that day is coming soon, this whole chivalry and jealousy thing is going to find it's last straw and I'm not going to know what to do with myself, because after all, it's not an act.