He Cheated

Are we really surprised? For the last 9 months of our relationship. And she knew he had a girlfriend. So, we have two cheaters together who will never have a moment's peace, because they'll always be wondering when the other person will do TO them what was done WITH them.

I was hurt, then sad, then angry. Now, I'm over it. All in the span of less than 24 hours. How did I do that? I'm sure being broken up for 6 months already when I found out helped. But what really helps is the fact that, as Kellie Pickler puts it, "he's already had the best days of his life." With me. But I have not yet had the best days of mine.

I don't hate him, I don't pity him, I don't ANYTHING him. He has to live with what he did. All of that is on him. Kinda sad, really. I have amazing friends, great family, a good job and lots of prospects. He has maybe 1 friend who knows the real story, and he has to pretend to everyone else. I can hold my head up high and look people in the eye. I'm not ashamed for people to know who I am and what I've done.

Gaelic Storm says, "She was the prize." And I was. He lost that prize. Lucky for the next guy.

‘Fessing Up (3 months condensed into one convenient post)

Hi, kiddies. Yes, I know it’s been a MILLION YEARS since I’ve posted. Yes, I know you’ve been waiting with terribly baited breath to know what’s going on. But, since just about everyone (all three of you) who actually read this blog are Facebook friends, you pretty much know why I haven’t updated. For any newbies who stumble onto this page thinking it has something with gardening or bespectacled former BNL singers, here’s the recap:

I broke up with The Boy. On March 29.

Yes, it’s been over 3 freakin’ months. But it’s taken me that long to be comfortable with it. I don’t want to get into the gory details, but let’s just say that he lied to me. And that’s the one thing I can’t abide. Because if you lie to me about something small, there’s no point in lying if it doesn’t matter anyway. And if you lie to me about something big, well, you really shouldn’t be lying about something that DOES matter. And if you lie to me about one thing, what else have you lied about? Trust is completely obliterated. So, it comes down to, DON’T LIE. EVER. The ridiculous thing is, if he’d come to me about what he lied about, I would have done my best to help him. I wouldn’t have gotten angry. But he chose to lie instead. And once he got caught, to tell me that he was trying to protect me by lying, since I have so much stress in my life and all. Um, except there really isn’t that much stress. Yes, money is always a factor, but when isn’t it? We’re all trying to figure out how to pay our bills every month. How is now more stressful than when my mother was dying or every semester I was in school and pulling my hair out over grades and finals? As I recall, he had no compunction about coming to me during THOSE times with HIS problems for ME to solve. It just came down to the fact that he didn’t want to get caught. But he did. Because I ALWAYS catch the liars. And usually it’s when I have no idea they’ve done something at which to be caught.

So I’ve been having some “me time.” You know, that time after a breakup when every fiber of your being is caught up in convincing yourself that you’re not such a wretched human being and didn’t bring all this mess upon yourself? That you didn’t deserve everything you got and that you shouldn’t be miserable for the rest of your life because that’s what you deserve and that’s all anybody gives you anyway? Yeah, that was me. Wallowing in my own well of self pity.

Oh, and there are also the times when you run into people who know you’ve been in a long term relationship and ask, “How’s The Boy?” because they’re too far out of your inner circle/daily life to know what happened. So there’s that moment of deciding whether to choke back the tears, give a one-liner about the joys of now being single, and shine a bright smile, or choke on sobs as you try to get the words out, or just say, “fine” thinking there’s no point in telling them anyway.

Then there are the people who are closest to you, who monitor your every expression, poised at the ready with chocolate and trips to Disneyland should a tremble cross your lips or a bit of water sit at the corner of your eye. These are the ones who want SO badly to make it better, who know exactly what this has cost you, and are angry on your behalf. The ones who want to make you a martyr and skin him alive.

When the truth is, it wasn’t him – it was both of you. Sure, maybe this one thing is the match that sparked the flame, but the kindling had been building up for years. Trust issues, time issues, work issues, money issues, needs not getting met issues... It’s all right there staring you in the face for years, but you can’t bring yourself to do anything about it until that one thing happens that you can’t turn away from. That you can’t dismiss with a wave and a, “That’s just how he is. I have to accept him warts and all because I love him and that’s what you do when you love someone.” No, that’s actually NOT what you do when you love someone. Because if that someone actually loves you back, he doesn’t do a million things that need to be excused. He does his damndest NOT to hurt you. My ex-husband was good that way. Obviously we parted and there were good reasons for that, but I never doubted that he would put me above everything else. Except when HE lied to me and blew up my life. Do we see a pattern forming here?

Right now I’m in the “I need to take care of myself stage.” I’m not interested in hunting for a replacement boyfriend. Oh yes, there are those time I feel the tears sting in my eyes because I don’t have someone to scratch my back or kiss me goodnight. But I’m not going to allow that to put me back in a farce of a relationship. I’m going to be strong this time. I’m not going to run around with puzzle picture of me as the doting wife and mother, and all that’s missing is the husband/father. That’s what I did for years. I tried to mold the men in my life to my expectation of what my life should look like, instead of really seeing them and who they were. I saw who I thought they COULD be. Because I so desperately wanted to be a mom. But not a single mom. I wanted a FAMILY. The whole kit and caboodle. So it was my job to find the guy who could give me that. Because the thought of me not being a mother terrified me.

Now that I’ve hit 37, I’ve started realizing that maybe I’ve gotten past the need to be a mother. Especially with my own mother gone now, it’s starting to feel less and less like that dream still fits the person I’ve become. So much of that dream was wrapped up in sharing my kids with my mom (I even planned to name my first daughter after her). Now she’s gone. And I’ve gotten more set in my ways. I like sleeping late and having my life revolve around me, and not around people I’m taking care of. So I’m starting to see a different picture of what my life could be.

My nephew is about to become a father, so I’ll have a baby around to fuss over. I have lots of friends with kids (although I’d like some of them to be more geographically desirable). I can get baby fixes that way. And maybe it’s OK that I don’t have to get up at 6am on Saturdays and sit out in the sun watching a soccer game. And maybe it’s OK that I don’t have to deal with schools that don’t teach my kids what I want them to learn (like grades actually matter, you have to work hard for what you get and not just have it handed to you because we don’t want you to feel bad, and that proper grammar and spelling DO count). Maybe it’s actually OK to live my life for me and not for someone else.

I know that parenthood has its joys, yada yada yada. Those are joys I was always expecting to experience. But now I’m coming to the conclusion that my life will probably look very different from my plan. Instead of being at a middle school graduation at age 50, I very well may just retire, sell my stuff and move to Tahiti. I won’t have to worry about leaving kids, or loaning money to my adult children, or worse – having them move home. I won’t have anyone I’ll have to answer to or consider. Just me. And while that sometimes sounds lonely, sometimes it sounds blissful.

This doesn’t mean that I’m going to shun men or reject love. But I am a lot more careful now. I’m not pursuing it in the hopes of meeting some timeline. If I meet someone who actually has the same interests as I do, that I actually have things in common with, then I could be persuaded to open my heart again. But it will have to happen naturally. As much of a control freak as I am, I can’t try to fit someone into a pretty picture in my head. If I meet someone whose puzzle pieces fit (so to speak), I won’t necessarily run away. But no more getting involved with men whose lives and opinions and interests are so different from mine that we have no middle ground on which to meet. My chasing days are over – my feet hurt too much.




Disclaimer: The above is subject to change according at any time in accordance with my mood and level of sexual frustration.

Feelin' Good

Yep, you read that one right. This is actually a happy post. Because I’ve officially taken control of my life and I’m loving it (as the McD commercials say).

I’ve made some decisions and some changes in my life. And one of the things I like most is that they’re NOT New Year’s Resolutions. That was 2 months ago. What to call these? March madness, perhaps?

1. I’m finally paying off my credit cards

Yes, I’ve spent too extravagantly in the past – if I saw it and wanted it, I bought it. This includes trips to London and New York, Bloomingdales (that heavenly mecca of 8 floored shopping goodness), concerts, cruises, pricey dinners….all the things that magically make that balance go up and the available credit go down. Way down.Well, that’s all changing.

The first thing I did was to nix the fast food, which is what I’ve pretty much lived on for years. (Bonus benefit: healthier eating). I’m now actually cooking at home with what is already in my kitchen. No more spending $100 at the grocery store to try out a new recipe. I’m getting creative with what I have. Which, surprisingly, has turned out OK.

I’ve budgeted myself to within an inch of my life. I am tracking every cent and have gotten incredibly miserly about spending anything. It’s a game for me now. Bonus points if I still have money left at the end of the month, because all the leftovers get put on next month’s credit card payment.

If I stick with my budget, I can have my credit cards paid off by year’s end. It helps that there’s no cruise this year. I’m just looking forward to the joy of seeing my statement along with “$0 balance.”

2. I’ve given deadlines

Therapy is a wonderful thing. Especially if you go by yourself once in a while. I ended up going to our couples counseling session by myself last week because The Boy was in Vegas for work. It’s taken a few days, but it’s been a real eye opener for me.

I’ve discovered that the basis of my unhappiness in our relationship comes from being in such limbo. You see, my goal (dream, whatever) has always been to be a mother. It sounds old fashioned, but I don’t care. My original life plan had me with 3 kids already. But we know how well life plans always go…

Anyway, we’ve always discussed marriage and kids. But the stipulation I’ve put on that is that The Boy HAS to have a staff job before any of that moves forward. I just CANNOT put myself in a situation where I’m worrying about if we’re paying the mortgage every month because of how little he’s worked or not knowing when he’ll get his next check.

Unfortunately, he has no control over whether he gets a staff job. He’s trying, but they’re hard to come by. The thing is, I don’t have control over that, either. And it’s been causing me to wait for years. And at some point, I have to stop waiting.

There are other stipulations as well, but I’ll not go into those out of respect for his privacy. Let’s just say that they’re completely fixable and within his control.

So…I’ve given a deadline. December 31, 2009. By that time The Boy needs to have a staff job and the other issues need to be addressed to the point where I will agree to marriage. If they haven’t, then I have to move on. It’s time for me to pursue MY OWN dream, and not just facilitate the dreams of loved ones.

It may sound harsh and like an ultimatum. But I really just see it as taking control of my own life. Surprisingly, The Boy sees it the same way. When we discussed this, there was no gnashing of teeth, tears or dramatics. He really heard me and he agreed. We’ve been having some amazingly productive conversations lately.

The result is that I finally feel at peace for the first time in years. Taking emotion out of the equation, I know that come January 1, 2010, my life will move forward. The only question at this point is in which direction. But I finally feel like I’m in control of my own destiny and I’m not waiting for outside forces to determine my fate. I’m looking at things in a different way now.

I’m back, baby!

Relationship Update

OK, I know the last time I wrote about my relationship (over a month ago), it sounded pretty grim. It was right after a rough time and I was feeling pretty hopeless. But that’s why we’re in counseling. It’s ups and downs and roundabouts. And counseling is supposed to help us smooth out all the twists and turns into even road. And that’s happening. Slowly.

I love The Boy. I know that doesn’t always come across, but I do. That’s why I hang in. That’s why I agreed to do counseling. As frustrated as I may get, I don’t want him to be out of my life. So I’m learning how to have him in my life without the anger and the fights and the drama.

It’s not a linear path. We go to the counselor, she gives what I think are good suggestions, and I find myself trying to implement them without consciously thinking about it. However, it’s hard to break a pattern. Sometimes I find myself reacting differently (more constructively) to The Boy, and he reacts as if I were perpetuating the old pattern. So the reinforcement I get is that he doesn’t want the dynamic to change. Then I explain to him that I’m trying to break old habits, and he eventually “gets” it. And then it’ll happen again about something else and I wonder why he isn’t trying to change the dynamic as much as I am. Then I get frustrated and sad, and I blog. Then we talk about counseling and implementing change. So, while we’re not in exactly the same pattern we’ve been in for 4 years, we’re not exactly the ideal couple, either.

There have been positive changes. I feel like we can now talk to each other without being on the defensive all the time. We try to see our actions through our counselor’s eyes, and to anticipate what she’d say about the situation. It’s helping. But it’s a process, as they say.

Our cruise was wonderful. We only had one “discussion”, and I’m happy to say it wasn’t a fight and it didn’t last for days, as has been known to happen. We resolved it fairly quickly, and went on to have a lovely time together.

I know The Boy loves me and wants this to work. And I’m happy to say we’re starting to have more good times than bad, which is a major change. There are still things we’re dealing with that are out of our control (his work situation), but we’re making progress.

Slow and steady wins the race (or at least avoids the breakup, hopefully).

Giving Up the Dream

Sometimes I get so utterly frustrated in my romantic relationships (especially my current one) that the tangled mess of my psyche makes me wonder if I even know my own name anymore. I start out being so clear in my position, about how I feel - then I analyze and bend so far over backward trying to see the other person's side that I start doubting what I knew to be true in the beginning.

I know I can be easily emotionally manipulated. It's happened far too many times in the past. To guard against this, I believe the worst of my partner first until he proves otherwise. And I put up one hell of a fight. You'd be surprised how easily the highly trained ear can pick out insincerity. Ah, but is it REALLY manipulation, or am I imagining it? This one thought goes around and around in my head until I can't believe anything or anyone anymore - not even myself.

I want to be a good person. But how can I be when there are so many bad people out there trying to get me? Trust is a luxury I don't have. Guilty until proven innocent - and don't think THAT won't take a lot of time and trouble.

I am seriously starting to think that maybe I'm meant to be alone. That I just can't make myself mesh that closely with another person. Yeah, I know I have all these dreams about being a wife and a mother. But what if I picked the wrong dreams for the person I truly am? I mean, a short person may want to play pro basketball more than anything in the world, and practice all the time to attain that goal - but chances are it's not going to happen. He just inherently is a bad fit for his chosen dream. A happy family is a lovely dream, but what if I'm not cut out for it?

Should I just throw in the towel and accept that I should spend my life alone? Wait for my nephews to have kids and just dote on them instead of my own? What if my dreams don't match my capabilities? How do you just give up on something you thought you wanted your whole life?

Try, Try Again

The Boy and I are giving it another go. I know there are those that will think that once something's done, you should leave it there. And normally I would agree. Except that this time, it's me. This time, it's The Boy. In short, my heart wants us together.

Do we have issues? Absolutely. Are we going to work on them? Well, if we don't, it's going to be The Big Breakup Redux.

Couples counseling, here we come. I'll update as warranted (and as discretion allows).

Broken

The Boy and I broke up on Saturday. I am officially broken. Not just my heart. The whole of me.

One more justification for hating October.

15 Years and 3 Tries (AKA: Walt Disney World Hates Me)

For 15 years I’ve been trying to get to Disney World. Disneyland I’ve done. Probably hundreds of times by now. Mostly because it’s practically in my backyard. WDW, however, has been a pipe dream. That elusive temptress that beckons to me from across vast expanses of the U.S. “Come visit us. We’re so big here. There’s so much to do. Don’t you want to come see us?”

Alas, it’s not to be. I’m now at “3 strikes and you’re out” and I don’t even like baseball. My saga has been long and ridiculous, and I’m at the point where I’m just giving up. It’s too much hope. Too many expectations. And this is coming from someone who for several years bought 2-3 WDW tour guide books a year and read every page cover to cover, studiously making notes about where I would go and what I would see when I finally got to “the World.”

Let me take you through the events that got me here:

Attempt #1
My honeymoon. 1993. My ex and I loved all things Disney, so we thought the perfect honeymoon would be to take “The Big Red Boat” (Disney’s cruise line before its current incarnation) and then spend a week at the parks afterward. Sounds perfect, right? Except that we were poor and paying for everything ourselves. We had one credit card that was maxed out. So my dear mother offered to put the trip on hers and let us pay her back over time. We all went to the travel agent (yes, they had those before the internet), plunked down Mom’s card and were confirmed. We thought.

About a month before the wedding, I got a call from the travel agent that the ship’s itinerary was changing. Instead of leaving Florida 2 days after our wedding, it was leaving the day before. Obviously, this wasn’t going to work. In the early days of the cruise line, they weren’t running cruises back to back. The next one wouldn’t be for another month after the wedding. Well, that didn’t seem like much of a honeymoon. So we canceled, lost a deposit and figured we’d go another time. Ended up in San Diego for the honeymoon instead.

Attempt #2
The ex’s graduation. 8 years later. The ex was finally graduating with his masters in architecture. We were moving to San Diego. I had given notice at my job. I had put a deposit on a rental house in San Diego and given notice on the house we were living in at the time. The ex had quit his job. We had paid for the trip and were going to leave 2 days after his graduation ceremony. No cruise this time, but 10 days at WDW. At the Grand Floridian. The trip I had dreamed of and planned for so many years. Plane tickets were bought, spending money was set aside, everything about the trip was fully paid. We were even going to go to Discovery Cove so I could swim with the dolphins. Then the bottom dropped out.

About a week before the graduation, I got a call at work from the ex. Turns out, he wasn’t graduating. Turns out he’d been admitted to the masters program on probation on the condition that he raise his gpa. He didn’t do that. In fact, his thesis was far from being up to par and they were not only not letting him graduate, but they were kicking him out of the university. He couldn’t take another year and make it up. He couldn’t go into another program. He was no longer welcome at this university that we had taken hefty loans out for. And I had no idea about any of this until a week before my entire life was supposed to change.

Needless to say, this was not news that was received well. In fact, it was the catalyst to the divorce. The ex left to go to San Diego on his own, I stayed and got my job back, and after a while we divorced. Making those calls to cancel that trip and pull everything back (the trip and all the moving related arrangements) just about killed me. My mom was kind enough to make the calls about canceling the graduation party arrangements and contacting the out of town guests that they would not need to make the trip (I felt awful about all the travel arrangements that had already been made). So, WDW attempt #2 was down the drain.

Attempt #3
My graduation. 2008. The Boy lovingly offered to take me to WDW this year if I could stay within a budget. It was going to be a kind of graduation present. So, back to the bookstore I went. I gathered information online, I pored over guide books and blogs. I found the perfect time to go, the perfect package and the perfect price. I had received WDW gift cards for graduation and my birthday, so I used that to put down the deposit with the agreement that The Boy would get me a gift card to make up for it, so he was paying for the whole trip.

Very long story very short, The Boy’s card does not want me to go to WDW. When it was time to pay the balance, he used the credit card. But I started getting worried. So I had him call Disney to confirm. Twice. Everything was fine. Until it wasn’t.

Turns out that even though the credit card issued a confirmation number for the WDW transaction and showed that the money had come off the card, WDW showed that they never received funds. Many calls later, turns out WDW didn’t get the funds, but the credit card has already pulled the money from The Boy’s account, and it’s in the ozone somewhere. So, while a trace is being done, the funds are not available for use by The Boy. Of course, in the middle of all this is the deadline for payment to WDW or the trip cancels. The Boy can’t use the credit card, because the available credit has already been pulled for the phantom payment that nobody can find. Having no other way to pay for it, we had to cancel our trip. We still haven’t found the money (the credit card company is still “tracing” it, and who knows how long that will take). So, no WDW.

I am now convinced that there is some Dharma-like force that is forever keeping me from my WDW dream. Trip has been booked 3 times. Trip has been paid for 3 times. Trip has been canceled 3 times. I’m convinced that if we had been planning to go anywhere else instead, everything would have been fine.

I just can’t take it anymore. I’m at the point where I’m going to accept that I’m persona non grata at WDW and stick with Disneyland. I’ve never had a problem going there. I’ll just stay where I belong.

Oh, and hopefully we’ll eventually find the missing credit card money. Probably just in time for retirement.

And Today Goes Down the Toilet in 3, 2, 1....

I wrote an e-mail to my roommate in response to her inquiry about my day. Then I realized it just about said it all:

God, I hate today. So far:

1. Had to sit through an hour and a half long meeting.
2. Students keep coming in looking for Computer Science Department (I work in the Dean's Office).
3. Call from a frantic mother because little Johnny is stuck in Cabo because of a hurricane.
4. Have to set up a meeting that I can't get a consensus on for a date.
5. Called Disneyworld to give airline info and find out final payment hasn't been received
6. Had an argument with The Boy over #5.
7. Got a letter from the credit card company stating the reason they raised my interest rate is because my balances have been too high for too long, so I'm an increased credit risk. Never mind that I always pay more than the minimum and pay it early.
8. Got a call from my boss while at I was at lunch that he couldn't get on a conference call. Got to the office 1/2 an hour after it was supposed to start and found out he'd had to push it to 3:45 because he couldn't dial in. Long story short, the instructions on how to dial in were in the details of his appointment on his calendar (I put them there 2 months ago thinking ahead) but neither one of us thought to look there.
9. Just really having a no good, very bad day.

The LAST thing I want to do right now is go to the gym, as I watch the minutes tick away to the time where I would need to change clothes in order to go right after work. But I know I have to. Which makes today worse.

I'm convinced that this is the price I'm required to pay for finding all those fabulous bargains at Macy's on Saturday. O fate, why do you mock me?

Mark Wahlberg, Stop Stalking Me!

OK, maybe the title sounded funnier in my head. There IS a story behind this.

Last October, for Stacey's birthday, we (we being me, Dave, Stacey and Chip) all went to the Four Season in Beverly Hills for brunch. This was supposed to be the best brunch in the city, and it really was. Rooms of food. A low to the ground kid's table with macaroni and cheese, small pizza slices, pb&j with the crust cut off cut like tea sandwiches, cupcakes - the works. For the grown-ups there was sushi, shrimp, salmon, mahi mahi, dim sum, eggs benedict, waffles with chocolate sprinkles, fruit, salads, cheeses (yum, cheeses!), omelettes, syrup from a beautiful silver decanter, and tables of desserts. We arrived at 11am, and stayed for about 2 hours.

As I said, there are rooms of food. Our table was in the very back of the restaurant, nestled between 2 windows. When we were finally done, we strode out through the rooms of food to the entrance. While going past the kid's food table, I saw a little boy who was about 2 1/2 or 3 years old. I'm all about the kids, so I looked down and smiled and waved at him. Then I noticed someone I assumed to be his father right behind him as I was raising my eyes back to normal height so I could continue my exit. Our eyes met and he said, "hi" so I said "hi" and continued walking. Something told me I should know who he was, but I kind of dismissed it.

From behind I feel The Boy's hand clamp down on my shoulder and spin me around. "Mark Wahlberg!" he said. "Oh, that's who that was. I thought I he looked familiar, but I couldn't think of who it was." Please remember that all of this happened in the space of about 4 seconds. Given a chance to collect my thoughts, I certainly would have processed who this nice gentleman was.

So we left, thinking it was a cute story. I was more concerned about how absolutely stuffed I was and how I was going to stay awake driving everyone home.

Flash forward to yesterday, when The Boy and I went back to The Four Seasons for brunch (this time to celebrate our anniversary). We get seated in the same room (different table). On our way to gather our first plates of food, I make a comment as we pass the kid's table, "mmm...I just want the food on the kid's table." This time I feel just a tap on my arm, turn around and The Boy says, "Mark Wahlberg". I said, "again?" as I peeked over his shoulder. This time Mark was with his daughter (I'm guessing it's his daughter) of about 5 helping her load up her plate with goodies. More interested in food than celebrities, I just kind of shook my head and said, "too funny" while thinking how nice it is that he is the one with his kids instead of handing them off onto someone else to take care of.

After we sat down, we mused on whether Mr. Wahlberg has a standing brunch reservation or if he might just be living at the hotel when he's in town. I figured that if he has kids, he probably doesn't live in the hotel, but what do I know? It's not my business. Just random chitchat as we ate. Whatever the reason, he seems like a pleasant person and a doting father.

But if I see him there again the next time we go to brunch, I might have to explain to him that I'm with The Boy and let him down gently. ;)

Anniversaries, Expectations, and The Cold, Hard Truth

It took me starting a blog to figure out exactly how pathetic my life really is. I love reading other people's blogs - be they witty, profound, or just plain dorky. However, my life does not exactly merit "must read" status. What did I do this week? Hmm...I worked. Went to the gym a couple times. Had a couple of arguments with The Boy. Did laundry. Got various parts of my person waxed. Yeah, good times.

Today is mine and The Boy's anniversary. Sometimes I'm loathe to call it an anniversary because the connotation (especially at my age) is that it's a wedding anniversary. Which, of course, it's not. Four years ago today (on a Sunday) we met at Coldstone in Sherman Oaks for ice cream. And sat on the patio for hours and talked. Three dates later I pulled the "we're just friends, right?" line on him because he hadn't bothered to even try to kiss me (date 3 is supposed to be the sex date, and I hadn't even merited a liplock). He was befuddled, stammered something into the phone and rectified the situation the next evening. Some people are horrified at that story, but seriously - it was either be blunt, or just not see him again on the assumption that "he just wasn't that into me." This is why I always vote for saying what you thinking and asking for information you don't have.

We're going to the Four Seasons for brunch on Sunday to celebrate (because I love brunch and would much rather eat that than dinner). I'm waiting to see if any flower deliveries show up at my office today. Not that I'm expecting one, but it's his MO. It would also be fitting because the offices on my floor will be closed 11:30 to 2:00 and I imagine that's when Mr. Flower Delivery Guy would drop by. Of course, by voicing this it means he hasn't thought about flowers at all. Which is fine. They're lovely, I like them, but I don't expect them.

Maybe something unexpected will happen this weekend and I'll have something to write about. No, not an engagement - the progression is: Staff job for The Boy -> Live Together -> Proposal -> Wedding at Disneyworld. Since we have no control over Step 1, there's no telling when subsequent steps will happen. By something unexpected I mean like winning the lottery. Or finally selling Mom's trailer. Or tripping and breaking my ankle.

Hitting a Wall

My tolerance for relationship BS has grown dangerously thin. When in disharmony with The Boy, I find myself picking at the minutiae of the issue to try to get my point across. He complains about the time spent discussing the issue, and I complain because he doesn't seem to "get it" unless I take it apart at the molecular structure and lead him through it by the nose, step by step, confirming his understanding at each interval.

Example:

Me: X means X. I meant X. That's why I said X.
Him: Well, if you really meant X, then you should have been clearer.
Me: How can I be clearer than saying X and meaning X?
Him: Well, when you said X, I thought you meant X plus Y.
Me: Did I say X plus Y?
Him: No
Me: Then it's your fault for inferring Y! I didn't say Y!
Him: But if it were me, I would say X plus Y, not just X. You need to be clearer.
Me: What you would say has nothing to do with what I DID say! You make this up in your head and then punish me for not doing/saying what you think I should do/say instead of listening and understanding what I DID do/say! I was clear! I said X. I meant X. It's not my fault you brought Y into it from your own head!

And on it goes. So I have to break down in steps what X means, even though X clearly means X. I said X. I meant X. X is a series of clearly defined English words that are not ambiguous.

I find it ironic that in past arguments he has gotten upset that I can't just let what he said mean what he said and understand there's no hidden meaning. So why can't he see that's what he's doing to me??

I'm tired. I'm tired of the hours of conversational breakdown and analysis it takes for us to get past an argument. I'm tired of the resentment I feel much of the time because it seems harder and harder for us to have a simple conversation. And I wonder more and more if that means we're ultimately not compatible. But I can't even bring that up because mentioning breaking up or not being right for each other is a cardinal sin. According to him, it's manipulation to get my own way - bring up breaking up, and I automatically win the argument because he doesn't want to lose me. So, I can't be honest because it's manipulative. There goes that Y inference again. It can't possibly be because I have real doubts - it's because I want to manipulate him into acquiescence.

Again I say, I'm tired. But I can't say that to him, either.