he isn’t laughing at all
her: how do you know when it’s possibly over, when there might be ‘trouble in the paradise’?
me: when you find something extremely funny and he seems unmoved or preoccupied, at any rate he isn’t laughing at all. it’s even worse, maybe even far worse, if he’s laughing maniacally over something that leaves you cold. worse still than even that is you feel not just cold but actually offended, even offended against. this could be applied further, to things like books and films, morality and politics, concepts of beauty and music. it’s the humour thing that sticks out though mostly, for me.
her: okay. hm. interesting. what else, anything else?
me: i guess when his idiocy loses its sheen of endearment and becomes just flat out idiocy. pure, painful and unadorned. in short, when what aggravates you about him makes you wanna with finality kill him versus makes you think about how ultimately dear/sweet/ cute/charming or helpless-without-you he might be, usually, is. ‘still forgivable’. in a word. two.
her: (smiling) that’s it?
me: jesus, that’s never ‘it’. we could discuss this forever or we could just drink. let’s drink.
