20 February 2013 § Leave a comment
Some days I feel like I can never get things right. Or I come just so close to perfection then seriously farq it up.
We decided to go for an evening walk around town. Although it’s still damp and a little drizzly, I’m savoring it.
Adoring the way we hold hands and talk. Slowly exploring the new town.
We get dinner at our favorite mom & pop Mexican restaurant. As always, the potions are way too much and the food tastes so good. We eat until we’re about to burst.
It finally feels like we were getting back on track. Slowly, but surely. Dinner wasn’t tense. I wasn’t worried about saying something which would be a trigger. We were just enjoying ourselves.
On the way home we causally talk about tomorrow, the errands and such. Even though I’m so incredibly full, I’m actually excited to get home because I know we’ll have sex.
When we arrive home, too full to really do much, my Husband sits on the bed. In His usual spot, He flips open His laptop and begins to read. I pad into the bathroom and take a shower.
When I finish, He’s still in the same spot. This is where things go awry. I log onto my computer and decide to bide my time, waiting for Him to shower and be ready for bed. Every so often I look over, hoping He’ll get up and take a shower. I can feel time ticking and hope when we do have sex it won’t be rushed. But of course, I don’t do what I should, which is ask Him about it – communicate. Instead I passively sit there. And I get sucked into responding to an email about my job application.
My current job sucks. One week the hours are 5:00a-1:30p, the next week it’s 1:00p-9:30p. And my days off are split. Only once a month I have two days off in a row, on a weekend. If I were 15 years younger, I’d be able to do it in a heartbeat. Actually I have.
Maybe that’s what the problem is, I’ve already paid my dues. But unfortunately it was with a company who got bought out by folks who don’t give a rat’s arse about seniority or dues.
Anyways, when I look up from my computer screen it’s 45 minutes later and He’s walking back into the bedroom after having taken a shower. Damn, I should have been done. I’m still fussing with the application and whining about it with Him. We both get upset and try to talk it out.
We argue back and forth and I try to say that the sooner I can finish this application, the sooner it gets reviewed, the sooner I can interview and the sooner I can get the job.
I complain that I only started tweaking the application because I was stalling until He took His shower. I understand His point, He was just trying to let dinner settle before taking a bath.
I just wished I hadn’t lost track of time and gotten so absorbed. But I always do that. As He reminds me, I always set some unnecessary constraint, this has to get done now, and then lose myself in it. Which isn’t fair to Him.
At which point He says, “Isn’t it ironic that you’re applying for this job, to get better hours, in order to spend time with me?” Frustrated, He throws His hands up into the air and walks away.
All I see is red. I’m pissed. And hurt. And exhausted. I pace back and forth, getting ready for bed. We continue to bicker. Finally He says, “If that’s (pointing to the computer) what you want then you can go.”
I feel like He’s slapped my face. I irritably flick off the light and flop sulkily into bed. In a fury, He picks up His pillow and blanket and angrily marches out of the room, closing the bedroom door behind Him.
I’m so frustrated and upset, and burst into tears. The only thought bouncing around my head is, ‘He’s finally had enough of me and is throwing me out.’ And the depression I’ve been precariously keeping in check, closes in. Suddenly I feel smothered by it. Like I’m drowning.
My cries turn into heavy sobs. I get so worked up, I feel nauseous and vomit. After a while my stomach settles down, because it’s empty, but my tears continue to fall. They’re uncontrollable. The sadness and despair is so palpable and overwhelming. I crawl back into bed and just lay there huddled into a ball, crying and crying and crying.
After what feels like forever, I feel Him slide back into bed with me. He curls His body against mine, spooning me, holding me as I continue to weep. He rubs my arms and my back, trying to comfort me.
I feel like such a lost little girl. I turn into Him and bury my face in His chest. His arms wrap around me, consoling me. I meekly whisper to Him that I love Him. He replies, “I love you too.”
And the tears fall anew. Even after everything, my horrible behavior, the affairs, the leaving, He can still say I love you and mean it.
Then my mind races again, thinking over everything I’ve done. The feelings of unworthiness and self loathing crowd around me. My heart swells and I get choked up, still weeping. Urgently trying to shake off the negative feelings and to stop crying.
Sometimes it scares me that I can so easily slip into a depression/crying bout, yet find it so hard to claw my way out of it. Often, I wonder and fear that I may never resurface from those feelings.
He continues to gently rub my back and I desperately try to recall our happy memories. The first time we met. Our first kiss. When He dances like a goof to cheer me up. My only consolation, He’s not going to throw me out…tonight.
Slowly I can feel some of the heaviness lift. He smoothes the hair away from my face and leans down to kiss me.
My mind clears and all I think of is Him and being with Him in this moment.
Knowing without a doubt that I will forever be His. And only His.
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