He sleeps
I want to stay mad
I really really want to stay mad
I don't want that as much as I want to fill out my kids' emergency medical forms for school
Or as much as I want to throw away the trash from the counter
Or as much as I want to pace the kitchen floor for an hour.
Or as much as I want to lay down my arms and tell him the truth of what hurts.
Or as much as I want him.
But he wants sleep.
Seems reasonable enough.
I want sleep.