
It started as an obnoxious buzz in my ear. That I wasn’t totally happy, that is.
I was worried that things were getting to be too much, that the major plates of my earth were shifting and unsettling and things were gearing up for unwelcome change.
I tried to talk to Isaiah. Instead, everything I said came out blamey and whiney and I didn’t like those conversations. I wasn’t even saying what I wanted to say. I didn’t know how I felt.
Thursday night our adorable puppy brought a present from the cat’s litterbox into our bed. Yes, a tootsie roll, a non-edible sausage, a turd…into our bed. The tiny crack of emotion I was feeling before burst into a mushroom cloud of a fight. I started out calmly talking. Isaiah got defensive. He called me negative, incapable of being happy…I was crushed.
I left the room for a few minutes to console myself with a cigarette and he followed me. We were both silent. Vinny lay at our feet concerned. I worried he thought we were fighting about him. In a way, we were.
We trudged inside and I collapsed on our bed. The bed that had remnant of litter and a faded off-white spot because of our too-cute-to-do-any-wrong puppy. I stared at Vinny in his eyes and tried to make him understand that I am not that patient of a human.
One stupid tear fell out from the corner of my eye and then another. I was sobbing that fugly cry where you can’t breathe and your head feels like it’s going to explode.
We talked. We made up. Vinny slept between us.
It turns out that feeling, if anyone wanted closure, was feeling unwanted and unimportant. I had family in town and Isaiah perked up when they got there, told all the stories he’s already told me and they laughed and gave his ego a nice boost and all of that. He had semi-flirted with the hostess at the restaurant who just thought he was the funniest guy she’d ever met. He has said before that he’s trying his best but there’s no time and blah blah but he will sacrifice what little free time he has to take care of the poop-eating puppy. In the middle of all of that, I didn’t feel like he was trying anymore with romance, Weight Watchers, job-hunting or just being creative.
When it came down to it, I felt like I exhausted him and others rejuvenated him.
I wanted to be that. The one he was excited about. I didn’t feel like I was.
The scary part was that I could see down the slippery slope that would continue if we didn’t make a change. It was dark and gloomy down there in the land of negativity and exhaustion and the cycle of making each other monsters.
I even asked through snot-bubbles and barely opened eyes, “Do you still want to be with me?”
It’s the first time in four years that I’ve ever asked that question. Maybe I should have brought it up sooner. There’s no point in hiding your feelings from your partner, however dim and hidden they are. Those are the ones that generally explode into that sniveling mess up there for me, at least.
I need to trust more. Trust Isaiah will be able to handle my abstract and poorly-described emotions. Trust he’ll be there to help me sort it all out. Trust that I’m his person.
How about you, did your dissatisfaction come anywhere near a close this week? (Those of you who said you were feeling that way).
Image: Photographer Viola Cangi could move mountains with her photos, I swear. Check through her Flickr stream here or see her work on PhotoDonuts.
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