93% is an A.

He's not a bad guy.

"You finally got over yourself" he said to me. My jaw dropped in a playful fake shocked face at his ridiculous comment. "And then I got over myself."

I smiled.

The night before, after a surprisingly enjoyable evening of Harry Potter and Hal's :

"You know, you're an asshole and I'm still pissed that you stood me up on Halloween."

"You want to talk about this right now?"

"Yes."

"Alright, I was nnnnnnniiiiii.....nnnnnnn...tttttttyyyyy....ttthhrreee percent in the wrong. I will own that."

"93% huh? Well I will own the other 7%." I smiled like a kid getting candy.

He leaned down to kiss me and I moved back insinuating that he wasn't quite finished, I started, "I'm.....?"

"I'm.....sorry for treating you that way."

I was awe struck. Having him apologize was the equivalent of saying, well actually it was more like, showing me that he cared about how I was treated. He also gave himself 93%, when he could have said, 50 or he could have said 85. But he didn't. The most appropriate word for what I felt was nurtured. It had been sooooo long since I had last felt nurtured. What a great feeling. I felt like all my blood cells exhaled. I was being loved.