Recent Entries Garion born; thinking of doing video logs - 2012-09-01 I'm married, I'm a prospective father, wow I never update - 2012-05-22 Got the job at the NIA; mother complicates wedding plans - 2011-10-13 Scrawl - 2011-08-05 It's never been better - 2011-06-02
|
All these lines on my face gettin' clearer (II of II) 2002-03-27 - 5:01 p.m. 
The conversation ended partially with the rest of the chicken simmering. I said I was sorry one too many times, or kept repeating what I thought we could do to resolve or minimize conflict. She snapped at me saying the conversation was over. i sat in the armchair then, her on the bed. I tried to ask her quesitons, talk about something, but it wouldn't come. She'd smile and say something amusing, I weakly smiled back, but I couldn't ignore the entire dialogue about all the ways I had disappointed her. She kept telling me to relax, but I couldn't. I was alone, scared, torn inside that instead of helping her during these difficult days I'd partly aggravated her. Anything positive I had done was minimized in my mind. I only saw what I had done wrong and it loomed up and above me, like some horrific blood-covered monolith pulsating in orange and red streaks. I was reminded of my flaws and they all came in a flood, overwhelming and engulfing me. My od facial expression, my out of touch nature with reality worse "than even me at times," she said. The disgust in her voice tore into me.As we sat down to eat I kept bringing up how I felt nervous, how I had trouble relaxing usually and I wasn't used to it and I was too used to how I lived. I was failing. It progressively got worse. Every time she said to relax or mentioned something with a smile that sounded condescending or sarcastic was a nail, a curved nail driven through my arms, feet and eyes. How could I relax? Here you were telling me I made you feel mostly on edge these past few days, when hours before and days before I was such a happy and wonderful comfort to you. We resolved these misunderstanings when they came up, I had asked you to tell me whenever something bothered you...so then why flood me with all of this now? Why did you start talking to me that way? Why couldn't you see how incredibly fucking hurt your words made me feel? I was a failure. Looking ather leave and try to reassure me for the 6th time, smiling that it was ok, I felt like a miserable failure of a person. I thought she had been happy all throughout, just with some occasional rough spots. I thought the last two days with all the mishaps that surrounded us had been bad but we had found some happiness in them together, through each other. I had helped her, calmed her, made her feel more happiness than she had in awhile. But then this...and the realization I had partly been wrong, very very wrong. As the door closed I saw all my flaws brought out into relief, embedded in my face like shrapnel...only a few tears came as I turned out the lights and lay there. I couldn't think. I couldn't say anything. A black rage hung on the horizon but didn't claim me tonight. ...Maybe I'm sensitive, but I don't think I deserved all of that at once in that way. You said you wouldn't intentionally hurt me, but I feel hurt when I say something wrong or misunderstand you bring it out and show me it, bring it back days later like my forgetting to close a door or a gate. You say something negative or comment on a flaw and I shut down or put walls up. How would you feel if I kept pointing out things that immensely bothered you about who you were or what you did, all the while smiling about or making fun of it? I can't stop saying I'm sorry, I fucked up, I wish I could relax more easily, I wish I didn't annoy you so that you looked exasperated with me, I'm sorry, I wish this, that, etc. Mostly I wish you could understand how much all of that hurt me and still hurts me. I love you so much and you mean a great deal, but then why...what am I doing wrong? I love you but...I didn't deserve that." What's wrong with me that it keeps getting put into relief again. There is a push, a constant feeling like I should be doing something different, feeling something different, that everything really is ok when it doesn't feel that way. I used to make her smile all the time. I can't describe to any of you the anguish in my heart at feeling like that's slipping, or even more that anything I'm doing is making her slip away. I'm sorry, I'm going to stop before I start crying. |
