Harold and Summer had argued on for about half hour if memory serves me correct.  Throughout their blades of fighting, they carried themselves through the kitchen, upon the dining room, and at the midpoint of the stairs that leads to bedrooms.  From these journeys of debating, I had been watching from an eyeful distance and, thus becoming the audience, heard a lot of banging in the kitchen and rising tones among the stair walls.  These two figures remind me of chess pieces in which, the arguments and reasons are the rooks, pawns, castle, horses, and a powerful queen.  Summer having every ounce of dignity to believe in Harold, expanding more reasons than necessary to set his rulings and me. 

            I wish I had as strong of a mind for head-butting Harold as Summer does, but it’s beyond me to even come close to arguing.  I can state for a fact that once an argument sets in, I tend to refrain from continuing and let the opponent fulfill their speech in a satisfactory manner.  What Summer could do, I couldn’t; and yet, this calls for me to be a gentleman once we locked ourselves in the bedroom to breathe a sigh of resentment.  Resentment is cast upon my heavy mind right then as I am in awe of what Summer had accomplished.  She is very much in contempt for upon Harold, and I had my focus on her emotional state of being.  Whatever I felt for Harold had diminished as a fadeout from Summer’s tears falling down her cheeks.  She still can’t see any reasons for Harold’s outburst, and is now worried that she’s made it worse for me in the few months longer I stay.  I rest assured her that what she did, I was thankful for, and can’t imagine myself doing better than her efforts.  It is beyond me to see myself as the reasons for their arguing and disliking each other.  They both were great friends before Summer crossed my bachelor path. 

            She’s not done with her figuring out Harold and goes on to compare him in a fish story of one giant fish controlling and retaining most of the profits from other smaller-sized fishes in a simple bowl of saltwater.  This, I must profess, is true and something that women are good at.  Comparing and analyzing every detail of a man to the point of every man’s human nature.  Now that I’m overcome with resenting Harold bringing Summer to tears, I told her flat out that I no longer will listen to Harold or his constant bickering since it’s only a matter of time before I’m moving out.  In retrospect, this was a moment to consider what is important for myself as a person.  I don’t know why I am this way, but it does make good sense to me in being this person of gentle character, and patient quality.  I am being rubbed off on both sides of a culture clash.  But the fact is, I am what made Summer interested and Harold impatient on the journey in my twenties.  As I am thinking in bed, I am searching for clues that will help me feel better in the future, but I am in unconvinced doubt Harold will always hold me in low regards.  Summer, of course, will always be blessed to have found me and dedicates herself on becoming my journey for life.