Delicate

She is. At least some times.

I'm tired today, because I stayed up last night longer than I should have, worrying.

Worrying because I said something that she took to mean that we might break-up.

A misunderstanding.

She said I was too cautious.

I said that she is who she is, I am who I am, and we are either a match for each other or we aren't.

Normally this is my mantra to defuse worries, knowing that happiness is an outcome, but also that if things don't work out it's ok too.

She only hears the negative.

She becomes upset.

I apologize and try to explain.

It takes several tries, and further work will need to be done, even though today is a better day.

I am tired.

I have thinking to do when I am not.

I don't like to upset her. I am trying harder with her to make things work than I have with anyone who has preceded her, and I do like her. I respect her, I am attracted to her. She makes me feel good when she is around.

Miscommunication remains the hidden landmine.