Nothing you love more than a story

Woke up to him this morning, saying he would be back, needed to leave for a second.
He went dumpster diving for a rent check.
I'm pretty sure of it.

Woke up to a text message that said
"You still upset?"
This is how bad days begin.

Woke up to him climbing back into bed, defeated without the rent.
Settled together in the center of the bed, trying to get him to forget about his missing check.
And then the clock went out.
And the lights went out.
And he says "Shit."
The power had been turned off.

So he asked if I'd like to take a shower with him.
And I looked down at my phone which read
"you're taking shit out of context and naming me the bad guy"
only the spelling is atrocious and his grammar morbidly imperfect.
"Yes" I tell him
and throw my phone in his sink.

In the dark and wet
he covered every inch of me
ran the bar of soap down my sides, back of my knees, and the bottoms of my feet.
In the dark and wet
he kissed my forehead
and then the water shut off.
And he said "God Damn it."
That didn't get paid either.

My legs were slick with soap.
My phone says "Nothing you love more than a story"
I smiled. Because, my phone's right.
Absolutely nothing I love more.
Except maybe the mornings where everything's falling apart.
And I have someone who'll run a towel through my hair for me
complain about how much hair I have
and kiss me in the dark, as if today hasn't started out completely fucked.