the life and musings of a kinky slut

Bad Night

For some reason, my SO and I went back to my place Friday night and decided to drink a little. We each had a shot of Grand Marnier and an Amstel Light to chase it. I sat there on the couch, savoring the moment before my shot. He was wondering why I was taking so long to drink it. I tried to explain to him that this drink and I have a history. For a chunk of my life, it was the drink that got things going.

Unfortunately, I forgot it was the drink that got things going. It has this elixir quality to it that makes my mouth and brain disconnect. Or, more correctly, it connects my brain and mouth like concrete, not letting anything stay up there.

I asked him point blank, “So, two years enough time for us to get married?” He did his shut down thing.

One immediate sentence he spoke was true. I brought up this conversation seemingly out of the blue. But, for me, it doesn’t feel like that. I think about this everyday, all day. Part of it is because I tend to worry a lot. The other part is that every time we have had this conversation, it has always been left up in the air. There has never been a fully concrete answer.

Well, I got one on Friday. He said he defiantly did not want to get married or have children. Yet another slap in the face to my dreams. I tried to get him to tell me why. The best he could come up with was “I never saw myself getting married” and “I just don’t want a child.”

We ended up straying away from the conversation, again. I was softly crying and I think that has become my defense machanism. If the conversation is going south, I find a way to not be talking about it.

Some how I ended up in my bed, sobbing. I told him I was going to sleep, and I tried. But I just couldn’t. I couldn’t deny what he had just said and the situation that left me in.

I kept imagining what had to happen next. I imagined having to drive him home. I imagined getting all of my stuff really quick from his room. I imagined driving back and crying myself to sleep. I imagined having to tell all my family and friends. I imagined having to call up my insurance company and take him off my life insurance plan. I imagined how we would try to still be gym buddies, how I would try to keep in touch, but knowing it would hurt so much. I imagined having to drop back into the dating pool, hating the way I look. I sobbed and imagined, and tried to get up the strength to do it.

I walked back into the living room and sat back next to him on the couch. I turned off the tv and quietly said, “I think I need to take you home.” I talked about how he had just reversed the hope I had been holding for him to change. I talked about how I didn’t know if it was fair to me to stay in the situation we are in now, knowing I will never have what I truly want. I talked about how, though I had hoped, it didn’t seem to have changed the situation at all. He stood up, grabbed a plastic bag, and said he would just be a moment.

And then I asked him to sit down. I asked him to hold me for a moment. He didn’t understand why I would want that. I told him I know this needed to happen, but just not now. Just hold me.

I told him how this felt like a mistake. I asked him why he couldn’t just let himself be happy with me. I told him I didn’t want this. I wanted to go to sleep with him beside me and wake up with him every day. I asked him if he would’ve ever broken up with me. He said he probably wouldn’t have.

He said things had in fact changed. He acknowledges the relationship we have to the people in his life. He’s begrudgingly called me his girlfriend to others. He’s been looking at property, in hopes of one day buying a home. He wants to have his family there, his mother, sister, two nieces, and, yes, me.

And I asked him why he hadn’t said this before. To me, this was progress. This was a reason to stay. This was a reason to keep trying. And it is the reason why we are right back into our routine, like nothing happened. My denial kicked in and I’ve been pretending since then everything is okay.

The difference this time, however, is that I know it’s not okay. I know I shouldn’t be in this relationship now. If I stay, I need to accept the fact that marriage and a child are not a possibility. And I’m not sure if I can accept that.

I’m looking into seeing a therapist. I have too many emotions and conflicting desires to flush this out objectively. I need some guidance. But mostly, I need somewhere to cry and talk.

There is a post script to this entry.
This morning, for the first time, he told me his father was a heroin addict. He’d told me about his father’s promiscuous ways, his numerous siblings, and the fact that he died of a heart attack in his 50s. My SO keeps opening up and seemingly letting me in, but I don’t know if what we have is enough, if it will ever be enough. Is it his Daddy issues? Is he just a stubborn unrelenting person? Why doesn’t he want the life I know we could have together? I am too close to the situation to understand it.
It’s just hard.

Categorised as: Emotional

Comments are disabled on this post

Comments are closed.