A Rant Session, From Me To Me
Sometimes, when I write on here I write for all of you WordPress people reading. I sit and I try and think of things that will matter to you and help you throughout your week, month, maybe even your whole life. But not today, not this post. This post is for me. I need to figure some things out, and those things just aren’t going to be in a nice and neat format with conclusions and introductions and explanations. They are coming straight from my head onto the keyboard:
What the fuck was that? That conversation we had
You went from pulling the maid position, sweeping all of your feelings and reservations under the rug to the prosecutor, airing out all of the things wrong that I made wrong
But where was your evidence?
“Something has changed” “I don’t know what I want” “I just feel like we are different right now” All of this was sprinkled onto the fix-this-mess cake, only where was my fork? Where was my knife? If I’m going to devour this mess I need the tools sitting in your hands and you just aren’t handing them to me
Until, oh get this:
“I think maybe we should try an open relationship again or take a break, because I don’t want things to stay like this.”
WHAT???!?! I’m sorry, WHAT?!?!?!
I was expecting you to put the fork and knife in my hands, not stab it in my fucking brain!
How was this a solution? It was like bombing a building that had the heat on too high…if that fucker is too warm, turn it off or open a window or blast the air conditioning…don’t just blow the whole thing up! And this wasn’t any old building, this was my home. You were bombing my home, our home, because somehow the heat was turned up too high.
“I just didn’t expect you to fall in love with her.”
And you think I did? You think I thought to myself, “Gee, she’s nice, why don’t I just hand over my vulnerability to her on a silver platter and stir the pot in my relationship of two years to the point of spilling?” You think I want my life to be this complicated? You think I want to sort out my feelings like I do laundry every time I come home to you?
I didn’t force you, I didn’t ask for this, you offered it. You told me you could handle this; how do you expect me to react to “something has changed”?
I want to fix it. I want things to be okay, to have that comfortable ease back in our steps and to float through this moment in our relationship with confidence and support. But I don’t want to have to be forced to let you fuck other people or to rip our relationship apart to do that.
That’s another thing, the sex. Stop looking at me like that
Stop saying “It’s okay, it’s okay.” I KNOW it’s okay to say no, it’s MY body. Stop constantly putting your hands all over it and reaching in my pants and breathing hard on my neck when I’m hanging out with my friends or cooking dinner or trying to wash my goddamn hair. Why can’t you just let me come to you, so I can remember what it’s like NOT to feel like I owe you sex
Why does it have to matter so fucking much to you when I don’t want it? It’s not personal, it’s not that I don’t find you attractive or that I don’t love you or that I’ve suddenly become a celibate monk—
It’s that I’m going to be on my fucking period here soon! It’s that my head is somewhere else and my body feels far away and that you aren’t saying what you are really thinking to me, you are just wanting the sex to fix what I didn’t even know was broken….
Until that conversation. That fucking conversation.
If you won’t say what is wrong than I will. What is wrong is that you aren’t talking, not about your feelings, about your life, about what dreams you had last night or what conversations you had with your mom. And what is wrong with me? I got busy, I got my life in a bit of a windstorm but I like it, I like to mix it up now and then. So I’m sorry if I’m not as readily available as I once was. But even though our future is on hold and my dreams are on hold and my heart seems on hold you know what isn’t on hold? NOW. This moment.
I’m so happy, and I want to share it with you. So tell me how to fix it, and if you don’t know than figure it out. Because I miss you and love you and want to get back to that place we were in when we conquered the world together, if that is possible with these new circumstances.
That fucking conversation. It put silence where should have been words.