Loverman: You at home?
Me: Yes
Loverman: Can I drop your oil pan off?
Me: Sure
Loverman: I’m here
And that is how he broke the silence.
I went outside to unlock my truck for him.
Pretending to smile as I walked.
Sometimes, if I pretend to be happy I actually become happy.
That didn’t happen this time, but I didn’t get sadder.
I told him again that it really hurts my feelings when he ignores me.
He responded with a blank look and, “What do you mean?”
Really?!?! Are you for real?
I said, Usually we talk every day and you kind of just dropped off my radar.
“I’ve been really busy working on this dude’s car and getting some stuff accomplished.”
(I hate when you say that shit: getting some stuff accomplished…
WTF? You still have my car in your garage waiting for you to drop the engine into it!
When will you be accomplishing that stuff?)
It’s time for a break. I am glad we are having one.
There’s too much anger filling me up inside and I don’t know if it’s me or PMS.
It’s still to hard to choose nice words.
We talked for a while longer.
I told him I was skating tomorrow and if he wanted to come with he needed to let me know.
I told him that I wanted to back off from and not bother him so much to do stuff with me.
I am always the one who asks if we can do something and I am sick of it
I wasn’t going to bother him about it again, I said. So, if you want to come you have to tell me.
I’m going skating either way, I told him.
“Yeah. I’m taking it day-by-day right now.”
WHATEVER!
I replied, I understand. You’re worried about losing your car.
There were other words. Small talk.
It felt awkward to me.
I don’t know how it felt for him.
He gave me a hug before he left and I went back upstairs to get comfortable and ready for bed.
How seriously frustrating. Seriously.
I think it’s harder because we can’t be with each other very often so every time together there’s added pressure to have a good time.
Last Thursday morning when I left him, I couldn’t stop saying “I wish you were mine.” If he was mine than it wouldn’t be so bad when we have bad times. But our time together is so limited that it makes the bad times even worse — especially when we can’t kiss and make up right away. The wound just festers and infects itself.
[…] Broken Silence […]