Secrets Don't Make Friends

Ben relaxed on the bed and read as I chatted on the phone with a girlfriend about 20 feet away. I holed up in the bathroom with the door shut to achieve as much privacy as possible. For about 30 minutes, we unloaded about “men”. We talked about the good and the bad, but mostly just the bad.

I emerged from the bathroom after our conversation… reborn and a little lighter from the release of stresses and annoyances that build from living with someone in 300 square feet of space.

I moseyed toward the bed and Ben rolled to face me. He had this are-you-serious look on his face. Uh-oh. I nervously giggled and quickly recalled the things I said. I could have been talking about anybody… right? Or, about men in general, not him specifically? Right?

Yikes. A pressed wood door and a little distance just isn’t enough to keep secrets in a teeny, tiny studio. It might be time to upgrade.