“Is that my fault? You could also just aknowledge my feeling and go on feeling romantic.” He explained, like I was a little kid.

“Really? You tell me something that makes me feel guilty and sad, and all of a sudden I say: “Sure, Frank. I'll try to do that.” And Bang, I'm romantic again. Stupid fool.” I turned away from him, clumsily and spilling lots of water over the edge of the tub.

“Come on, Mandy, I won't bring it up again.” He touched my arm and tried to cuddle me.

“You'd better not. But I'm still angry.” I pushed his hands away, and his face portrayed his sadness.

“Then just forget what I said. I'm sorry.” But I still felt so disappointed that I couldn't forgive him. “Here, I'll lie down again and you can lie on top of me. The water's still nice and warm.” I hesitated between love and hate, which felt really weird. My husband was lying there, his eyes full of his attempt to please me and his warm face ready to be kissed by me. But he was also the man that acted like he didn't know anything about love and romance, and had made me feel guilty about something that was really difficult for me.

“This just doesn't go away by wanting it to, Frank. You should remember that for once.”

“Well, that goes for me too, woman!” He said, suddenly angry. “You're not the only one with feelings here!” His wet hair made him look a little silly.

“You don't seem to understand that my problems are real, Frank, and that I need time to sort things out. You want everything to happen right away, when you want it to. Well, it doens't work like that!” I had gotten up on my knees, and stared at him furiously.

“I don't expect that, I'm not like that, but you won't tell me what's wrong and how can I be understanding when I don't know what the hell is going on?”He gestured agressively and spattered the water against the wall.

“You don't need to know that, if you loved me you would accept that.” I hated him for the fact that he couldn't be patient, that he kept prying me for answers that I didn't have, for his misunderstanding me. I hated him, I hated him, I hated him! The words were banging against the inner side of my skull, they were pounding my ears, so that I couldn't hear Frank anymore. I saw his stupid face, his stupid angry eyes and the way he couldn't think like a grown man. Suddenly the rage exploded in my brain and I leaned over and pushed Frank backwards. His head hit the edge of the tub, and we both fell down, slipping down the side of the bathtub. But I was lying on top, and let all my weight lean on Franks chest. I held my hands over his head, pushed my elbows on his arms. Frank tried to get a grip on the tub, his feet kicked frantically, his head went from side to side, and I saw his eyes for a moment, filled with deadly panic. Frank wrestled me, he fought for his life, and I realised that I hadn't done this before. I now did it on purpose, I did it while my husband fought me.