This is a blog that was previously posted on MySpace by me at the beginning of May this year. It explains where I was at with the father of the growing baby in my belly before I knew I was pregnant, and a big deciding factor in going home. It's mostly a rant, so be careful. And it's totally uncensored. So... Yeah. Good reading.
I do not like being told that I am wrong....
It's not that I'm wrong in some kind of political argument, or on some random pop quiz about pop culture, which are both things that I usually pay no attention to. It's about being told that I'm wrong in how I feel, and why I'm so confused about where I am in my life right now, in this moment, and in my current relationship.
Generally I'm a pretty happy person. I find pleasure in simple things, like palm trees or clouds that I find to be shaped like Disney characters. Hell, sometimes I'm happy just to be alive. But right now, I am so utterly confused and depressed. It's not that I don't feel loved in the relationship I'm in now, but honestly I'm not happy with where it is. Last night I tried explaining why I feel like I'm not satisfied with where it's at and I was told that I was wrong... That nothing is wrong, and that I am just not a happy person. The problem really is the fact that the other person I am in this relationship with, doesn't see that anything could be wrong at all. And for some reason, the blame is being put on me.
I did not try to start any kind of argument. Not at all. I honestly was trying to express my opinion with where our relationship was at and how I wanted to fix what I believed to be wrong so that it could last a lot longer than it would if it stays the way it is now. I was told over and over again, "If it's not broken, don't try to fix it." Stupid cliches... Right now, I know that the relationship will not last if it continues to be this way. If I am constantly patronized, and told that what I think, feel, and believe is wrong, there is no way I can stay and be happy.
Past relationships honestly have kinda fucked me up. I'm not gonna lie. If you need references, just take a look at previous blogs that I posted, even two years ago. I have found it hard to trust. Because of one relationship, I get worried that I will say or do something that will drive the other person away, and that today will be the last day I will see them. That they will pretend everything is okay, then suddenly stop calling and find someone knew. That they will completely cut me off and leave me hanging on a very delicate string from the highest building in the world by myself. I know that was just with one person, but this person messed me up so badly, that I used to have a constant paranoia that the person I'm with now will decide that they no longer love me and move on to someone new. Now it's just changed to each argument possibly being the last, and the last time I talk to them or see them. Which I don't want to happen. I don't by any means start arguments to try and end relationships. Why would I try to sabotage the best thing that I have? That makes NO SENSE.
Am I so wrong to believe that when I'm not happy and when I know why I'm not happy I should try to get help in fixing whatever I feel to be broken? Things aren't even broken. They are starting to beak, and I'm just trying to prevent unnecessary damage. When you see a hole or crack in a dam, do you wait until it's near the breaking point, or even too late to try and repair it before it breaks open and wipes out an entire city? No. Or at least I don't.
I feel like Meridith in the bomb episode of Grey's Anatomy from season two. It's a two part episode, so of course there is a little bit of suspense. A couple of idiots decide to replicate a WWII bazooka, with live ammo. When they test it, it doesn't work, so idiot number one decides to stand in front of it to see what's wrong. It fires, of course, and the bomb goes into his stomach. They get to the hospital, and a girl stuck her hand in his stomach to stop the bleeding... blah blah blah... somehow Meridith sticks her hand in the open wound with her hand around the bomb that hasn't exploded yet. Before this point, pretty much everyone else has left the room, while Meridith has her hand around the live bomb. Me, Meridith. Situation, live bomb that could explode and kill everyone including herself. The boyfriend at the current moment? On a total different side of the hospital away from any gas line. Should I risk pulling it out and triggering a massive explosion, or should I just wait for my McDreamy to come help me and keep me calm? I dunno. AND IT SUCKS
So what's so wrong? Why am I not happy?
At the beginning of the relationship, we tried to actually plan things when we got together because it wasn't very often. Now that we live together, we see each other all the time and never go out. I'm not saying spend a ton of cash on me and take me out to dinner all the time or buy me flowers. Why can't we just get outside and enjoy the sunshine instead of staying inside while he plays his game? And that game... I don't think he can even begin to realize how much he really plays. It wasn't a big deal at first. I'm not one to tell someone else what to do. I understand that it relieves stress, and that when he's done with work that it can be hard to go to sleep sometimes. I get that. But when we talk about going to see one movie for weeks, and every time we both have some time to get out and finally see it, he's on that game, in the middle of something and doesn't want to stop. I'm not going to tell him to stop. I'm never going to tell him to not play. Even if I have one night to really lay in his arms before there are a series of conflicts where we won't be in bed at the same time and he wants to play his game instead, I'm not going to stop him. No matter how much it bothers me that I only have this little bit of quality time left. It used to be about quality and quantity... Now we definitely have the quantity... the quality just needs some tweeking.
There was a day when I expected him to come home from work and be back around five thirty or six, and instead, he walks in the door around eight or nine without a phone call. I didn't want to try and find out where he was, assuming he got held up at work, or if he was doing something else he would have at least tried to call. But no. He didn't call, because he thought I was asleep. And he wasn't at work. He was out to dinner with an ex that he is still friends with and talks to on a regular basis, after going to Hooters and having a beer. I don't have a problem with either one of those things. I just thought it was common courtesy to let someone know you aren't going to be home when you say you are. Not only was he out with this other girl, but we were planning on going to see a movie when he got back. Instead, of course, he started playing his game and claimed to be too tired to go out... again.
I can get someone wanting their alone time. I like alone time too. I know it's hard to get when living with someone. He takes his game into the other room to play to have his alone time. He goes out and does whatever while I'm at work. And he does work a lot to, so alone time doesn't come as easily. Apparently, because of me he doesn't talk to as many people as he used to, and he doesn't go out as much. Is that really my fault? Because I came into his life he lost his social life? But again, he says that there is nothing wrong with our relationship. That I'm wrong and just an unhappy person.
I don't like being talked down to. I hate being patronized. I know we have a little bit of an age difference... he won't let me forget it. It comes up any time we fight, and he said so himself that he feels like that's all we do. He talks about how I'm so much younger than him... but then remembers that I have been through a lot and am rather mature for the age I am now. I don't like being told to say "please" or "thank you". I don't like when he makes comments in front of other people that make it seem like he is more of a father figure than a boyfriend. That he has all the control. He does, and I hate it. I have no control over where I am living... which in turn means no control over my social life or being able to see family.
I finally got control over an awesome job that I now have. Before I found I job, I was looking for two months to find something close to the house so that I would not need to rely on him for transportation to get there every day... that didn't happen. But again, with out doing it on purpose, he had the control. I haven't had full function of my phone for the better part of a month because I was working so hard on trying to find a job that would make a lot of money rather than make me happy, as well as be close to the house that we are apparently moving out of anyway. When I finally got the job that made me happy, there was almost no reaction from him. It didn't matter that it took so long for me to find any job, but the fact that it's something I love doing, something that I know he knows I love doing, I thought I would at least get a hug. No. I didn't expect him to jump for joy. I just hoped that he would have been happy for me. Instead, he's worried it's not going to be enough money, and he doesn't want to have to worry about me getting out there every day. At first, he wouldn't even budge to make arrangements so that I could figure something out. He was so set on the fact that me working there wasn't going to work out. But it's working out now... or at least I hope it is.
We think on total different wave lengths. There are good things about being different, but there is a fine line between being different and being too different. When it comes to managing some kind of facility, we have the same views. But we were obviously raised differently. I want a dog. He wants cats. I love being outside and doing stuff when I have time. He would rather stay inside and not do anything. And things that he thinks are funny, I don't think are funny. When he talks down to me, he says he is kidding, even though he knows that it is bothering me. I have told him over and over that I don't like when he talks to me like that, and even though it hurts my feelings he still does it. I tell him that something is wrong. He tells me that I'm wrong for feeling the way that I do. I can't help how I feel. I try to hide it, believing that it is no big deal, and that it will all blow over. But when it doesn't, and I bring it up, he freaks out and doesn't understand.
Things were so different in the beginning. We were kinda forced into living together and may have put a damper on our relationship. I gave up a lot at that time because I believed that he and I were supposed to spend our lives together. I felt a connection, and even before we were having regular conversations there were rumors of us being together already. Why can't it still be like that? Why does living together have to make relationships turn for the worst?
To be with him I gave up people that I thought were my friends, who I later came to find out were fake the entire time. I gave up living in the apartment that I loved living in, with my puppy that was a source of therapy for me when I was going through a hard time. Instead of moving back to Utah like I had thought about, I moved in with him. He took me in during a time of need, and I will appreciate that more than he will ever know. But I miss my family, and the mountains, and the friends that I knew would always be there for me. I gave up a job where I was making more than enough money to pay the bills, because I felt like it would be worth it. And he promised over and over again that he would make it worth it. That things would be good. But it may have all happened too fast. Something that could have strengthened our relationship, may have made it weaker.
Don't get me wrong. I love Florida. I love palm trees. I love being able to go to the beach and dig my toes in the sand and look for sea shells. I love not having snow. I love being able to know that I'm surrounded by ocean and aquatic life. I want to study marine biology, and what better place to do it than right here?
I am so terrified that I may have made the wrong decision, and he's not helping me to decide that I've made the right decision. Maybe I should have just gone back to Utah. Maybe I should go back now. I talk about moving back, and he has no desire to follow me there. A visit maybe, but he never wants to move out of Florida because his family is here. I don't mean we should pack up our things and go right now. It would just be nice to know that he would be willing to make that sacrifice for me, the same way I was willing to make that sacrifice for him. Am I giving too much? Or am I just being selfish and being stuck in my head that I have given all this and am expecting too much in return? Should I keep trying? He says he's been trying so hard to make it work... the famous words of my father.
My parents just got divorced after forty years of marriage... I don't want to be like them. I don't want to turn into this miserable lady, who argues with her husband all the time about stupid things, like what side of the door the hanging suitcase should go on. I don't want to be with that man that talks down to his wife and always has to be right, or who is not willing to make any kind of sacrifice to make both parties in the relationship happy.
Since when did it have to ever be like this? Why can't I just lay in bed with him and be comfortable wrapped up in his arms? Am I worrying too much? Is this right for me? Should I just give up? I hate feeling like this and I have felt this way for so long. I really really really want it to work. And I can see myself being with him for the rest of my life... but not if it stays like this. Not if he's not willing to sacrifice and make some compromise along the way... If I keep trying to find this fairy tale happy ending, will I end up walking alone down a winding road for the rest of my life?
I want romance again. I want to feel like he's still trying to get my attention. I want it to be more like how it was before, where we make time for each other, and plan dates. I want a guy that will randomly see flowers on the side of the road, jump out of the car and pick them for me. Someone with little surprises. Someone that will remind me every day why I love him, and why I gave up what I did... Is that too much to ask?
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