Then – June 7, 1998
I had a great day today. We went rollerblading and I improved a lot. I’ll keep trying. He went to work and I looked at recipes, went to lunch at a little hole in the wall, and stopped at an espresso bar. I shopped around, found the book and stuffed animal about Humpty Dumpty for my friend’s soon to be born baby, went to Balducci’s and got food for dinner. I went to church last night and fell asleep. I think the priest was possessed or on the edge of a breakdown. Either way, he was not for me.
Yesterday he worked too. I made the mistake of calling him at work. I am writing about this to remind myself NEVER to call him at work again unless I need something. He doesn’t like to be bothered. I didn’t realize I was a bother, but evidently so. Someday I’ll learn my place. I’m just starting not to like it too much. He just doesn’t understand. I thought he appreciated the little things. I remember when he used to like to hear from me. He said he’d just seen me a few hours before and didn’t need to be bothered at work. Ok – I get it. Am I asking too much?
Then he complains that I threaten him about leaving. I don’t want to leave, but I want to be happy. Little by little he discourages me from loving him. I hope the feelings I have don’t go away. Maybe I love him too much. I have enjoyed my time alone to wander, in the city and in my head.
Now – I can remember this phone call from many years ago so vividly. It was a twilight zone moment, where you sit with what just happened for a bit to see if it was real. Unfortunately it was all too real and at the time I didn’t realize that it was the beginning of a pattern. This was roughly six months into our relationship. I’m sure I chalked it up to him being stressed and frustrated at work. Why did I continue to let these things go?
Talking with a friend yesterday she reminded me that if I try to create the type of relationship I want with him and it does not go well, at least I’m being true to myself. When I got home late last night I saw the kitchen, still disheveled from the dinner I had fed the kids right before leaving for the evening. Determined not to be a doormat after revisiting this old journal entry, I let him know that it was not nice to come home to a dirty kitchen and that I would appreciate him finishing cleaning up. Baby steps.