You’ve just ordered us food and made me say, "Ali Babba" with a peculiar Indian accent, despite it being Turkish food.  You let me watch Uptown Girls, despite wanting to punt Dakota Fanning.  I love you, love us, love this–lamb in bed with yogurt sauce and champagne, watching Uptown Girls.  I love these moments.  Food.  Bed.  You.  Half-dressed.  Your shoulder.  Your smile.  Your bad joke.

Just when I want you to be serious, you choose to crack a stupid joke.  I roll my eyes, and you grab me by the waist, shaking me.  "Oh come on, now that was funny."  I don’t always want funny. I want us talk.  Because I’m an insecure little girl sometimes.  And I want to hear that everything will be okay. 

Many women feel close and happy in a relationship when we’re able to talk and share.  We like when he uses the future tense and speaks as if we’re a sure thing.  Whereas, most men see the success of their relationships not in the sharing and talks but in the fun.  In the activities.  In the laughter.  Fun doesn’t translate to "us talk" in any language; it usually means joking and sex, but not in that order. Banter.  Teasing.  Sometimes though, I begin to see the teasing as arguing, and then we’re an us that argues, which leads to an us talk, which makes me feel loved and happy again, ready to be teased.  And I suppose we love one another despite the crapass jokes and "God not now!" talks.  And I can love that.