She had been staring at the ceiling for over five hours and her mind had yet to take a detour from thinking about her girlfriend.

Instead, she had their fight playing over and over again in her mind, cringing and regretting the words she said to her. Her heart broke each time she pictured the look of hurt in her eyes.

She sighed, frustrated now more than ever with herself. Rolling over onto her side, she reached over to her side table to get her cell phone. Flipping it open, she dialed a number she knew by heart.

She picked up after the first ring.

"Let me guess what you want to talk about," her best friend of more than ten years said. She could imagine her shaking her head.

"The girlfriend."

"We had a fight," she told her friend.

"I know," she said. "Why else would you be calling?"

She smiled a little. Their conversation was always so typical, but it was having talks like these that always helped her.

"It wasn't your fault," she continued. "It was hers."

She shook her head. Already the guilt was doubling twofold within her. "No it wasn't. It was mine. I was rash, saying things I didn't mean. We just haven't seen each other in a while and it seemed like we were growing apart. And I was upset." They were both entering their last year in different colleges, and work was swamping both of them. Only on certain weekends would they see each other, but lately all their contact had been through short e-mails and five minute phone calls. So when they were finally going home for winter vacation, they met up and ended up fighting.

"Look, I know how she's like," her friend said. "She pushes you away during the most crucial times. And it's her fault you guys haven't been talking. She's always busy, neglectful, and selfish. She should make more of an effort.

"And what about me? Like I don't have to make any effort to talk to her," he fired back. "I forget to call. Then when we do talk, I'm always doing something and not concentrating on her like I should."

She sighed, frustrated with her best friend for being so foolish and kind. She was such a sweetheart, the perfect girl girls would dream of… And she got stuck with an idiot of a girlfriend.

"How is it that you two ended up together again?" She quietly asked, though she knew the answer already. After all she was there through it all.

"Senior year of high school," she recalled, the memory making her smile. "It was her birthday and she was crying about how her best friend had forgotten her birthday. I appeared, comforted her, and then we kissed."

"And despite all the awkwardness and trying to deny what was there, you two ended up together happily ever after," she finished for him. There was a hint of sadness in her voice. "Or so it seemed."

Still, even after three years, the feelings she had for her girlfriend was still growing strong. They only ever had three big fights, well now four including the one they had today. Always though, after the fight she would find herself seeking the comfort of her best friend.

"Should I say sorry?" She asked.

"No," she cried over the phone. "Why would you do that? The girlfriend should apologize first."

"But it's…"

"No, stop giving in. It's her fault. Trust me."

There was a moment of silence on both ends of the conversation. Then she said, "I hate it when we end up fighting."

"I know. She does too I'm sure." There was a pause before she continued. "Why is it that you love her?"

This question again. It was the same question she asked her back in senior year. She would always ask her the same question every year, always when she called her to talk about the fight she just had with her girlfriend. Always, her answer would be the same.

"I love her because she's beautiful, despite her denials about the fact. I love her because she knows me in and out. I love her for her kindness, her intelligence, her humor, her lame insults and her even lamer jokes. I love her because the very thought of not loving her makes me sick. I love her because after each fight, all I want to do is say sorry a hundred times to her and run to her and hold her again. I love her because I just do."Her answer was always long and exaggerated and filled with all the cheesy lines found in those cli