how many times have i said it’s the last time? too many to count. but i think this is.
we had sex.
it was good, but it did feel just physical. like i was another one of his guys he was with simply out of a desire to be with someone.
after, we had quite the little tiff. i can’t remember how it started, but he wanted me to talk and so i said it wasn’t fair for him to be with someone (me) who wanted him to change. He said he knew we weren’t going to be together; that that wasn’t the issue at all. And then I was flabbergasted; you tell someone you love them, and then you just let them walk away? without wanting to change? I said this to him, more or less, and he got flustered and started bouncing and watned to know what was wrong with him. All i could get out was that he was mean when he was drunk; all he retorted, like always, was that my friends were assholes. I said he didn’t have to act that way back, and he got angry and wanted to know what he should’ve done. I said just tell him to stop and walk away. “WALK AWAY WHERE? OUTSIDE? YOU WERE GONE.” (to the bathroom).
then, when he started saying what he didn’t like about me, he said he didn’t like how i didn’t tell one of my semi-friends (who used to like me) about us until we were together at the bar. “You’re always on the phone talking to them, and you never talk to me about me,” he said. “You’re always talking to other people. And then you didn’t even tell him about us.”
I said I wasn’t ashamed of him, but he wasn’t convinced. And then I said that friend didn’t matter all that much to me; the friends that did,
emotions
“The unexamined life is not worth living.” “What does that even mean?” he said. “How you can examine something that’s supposedly happening right now.”
And then: “You’re not even living.”
Wow. Thanks so much. SO LOVING. Just what I fucking want to hear, right?
I asked him to explain. Well. Well! Look at me; I wasn’t pursuing my goals; he doesn’t even think I have goals; I’m at this stupid job not doing what I want to be doing.
[Um, but filling out legal forms all day is somehow incredibly more transcendent than my career??]
That he hates my friends; that I lie to him about what I do (i’ve gotten so bad at lying).
And then he set up a continuum. One end, anger; opposite end, love. If you tie off one–anger–if you repress it, then the other one dies.
“Because passion means to suffer.” There was some tirade about not wanting to hurt people; if we’d done that with Hitler, just talked to him and let him do whatever, where would we be? It’s the reason we haven’t won in Iraq; we’re too nice and don’t want to kill anyone?
[Huh? So now I'm Chamberlain?]
I have to suffer to love? I disagreed with that continuum, which made him mad. “WHAT are you passionate about?” he asked. “What do you even want in life?” he spat, “you little examiner, examining life?”
I got up and said I wasn’t going to respond if he was going to mock me, and he was angry that I said that. I walked out and came back, and told him what I wanted. The first thing was to get married to a man; why marriage, he asked. Because it’s knowing that you’re his and he’s mine, and there’s no one else for him. And I said I wanted to move somewhere else and get a job probably writing, and get a little famous for it, and hopefully write things that will change policies and politics, to help people who would otherwise be treated like shit (immigrants). And I wanted kids.
He said he would move to the suburbs and commute, and probably wear a tie.
We fell asleep. I examined some things before… then when we woke up we…. and then he started getting angry again. “so, last night, you were only there with [friend] huh, talking about his problems huh?” Yeah, and my other friend came too (I realized he had looked at my text messages). “Oh you took a long time I mean, for [friend] to just be talking about his problems.”
Caught? Not really; so what, I do lots of stuff. That was another thing he said he didn’t like–how I went out every night. Excuuuuuuse me? Look in the mirror. I might go out more frequently in terms of numbers of days, but in terms of how crazy/drunk/sexual I get when I go out, I think we know who wins that. Seriously. I don’t live with people I know so what am I supposed to do, come home and read? I like that to an extent but not all the time.
He said I didn’t tell “the whole truth.” And he later admitted to prying.
The reason I don’t tell him everythign is because when he does–when he admits to sleeping with that boy, or doing a little less but still too much with an old guy, it hruts me. Or at least it used to; I don’t think it really does now. And I don’t want to hurt him, to have to explain to him these things.
and then he sends me an email
ARGH AND THEN HE WRITES ME A NICE EMAIL AND I FEEL GOOD ABOUT HIM AND THEN IT STARTS ALL OVER AGAIN WHENNNNNNNNNN IS IT EVER GOING TO STOP IS HE LYING THIS IS HONESTLY DRIVING ME CRAZY.
HE IS NOT WORTH YOUR CRYING.
