I'm in a bad mood, sitting at the dinner table whilst my family talks mundanely. I'm tired and stressed and my hair droops over my eyes as I stare down at the bowl of pasta like a classic moody teenager. I know, partially, that it is a sort of ritual I play to show my dissatisfaction. The pasta is really good, my parents always make nice food. Someone asks what's wrong, someone else replies. I get annoyed by that and tell them no, that's not it. They ask what it is, I say no, they insist and they speculate and I am tired and angry and annoyed and frustrated and stressed as I keep telling them no and then I explode.
I shout and I storm out of the room and up the stairs. The length of the climb and walk to my bedroom takes the wind out of my sails, but I get to my bedroom and lie down and think and cry a bit.
Sometimes they call for me or even come upstairs, other times they finish dinner.