Friday, February 12, 2010

Space

What is with your fucking attitude lately? What is with the sarcasm... the treating me like shit? What is with the snapping at me... the short temper? And why the fuck must it be now? Now, when you know I am in hell. Now, when you know I am extremely sensitive. Now, when you know I feel like no one is on my side. Now, when all I need from you is to be there for me. What the fuck is going on with you? I don't understand. I really don't understand how you would decide to act like this at the time I need you most. Especially after all I have done for you. When you were down and needed help, I was there for you. When you were looking for jobs, I did the leg work, happily. When you were miserable at your job... I supported you, even when you were taking it out on me... treating me like shit. And now that you are happy, I couldn't be happier for you. So why the fuck can't I get some of the same compassion, love, understanding, support. You are supposed to be my best friend, my rock, the person I turn to in any and all situations. Lately it feels like I have to walk on egg shells around you. I'm fucking sick of it.
Let's take last night for example: I walk in the door to a barrage of anger... all about how you didn't sleep good last night because you were sleeping on your arm. "Why were you sleeping on your arm.", I ask sweetly. Him-"Well, you try to sleep on 8 inches of bed... with one dog here and one dog here (picture a re-enactment here) and you here and 4 feet of bed on the other side of you." Me-"Honey, if the dogs are in your way, just move them over. If I am crowding you, just gently move me over." Him-"Oh like that's gonna work. I know how crabby you are when you wake up." Me-"Yes, but you also know what a heavy sleeper I am. Once I'm out, I won't even notice if you move me." This goes on and on for a good 20 minutes. I blow up. I've just got home from a long day, does he really need to interrogate me right now? We don't talk for about a half hour, then it starts again. Him-"I'm a right handed sleeper and I sleep on the left side of the bed... When I roll over, I'm on the end of the bed." Me-"Babe, why don't you just start in the middle of the bed then." Him-"Fine, that's what I'll do." It's finally settled but we basically don't speak for the rest of the night, he is so angry with me about the fact I apparently ruined his night of sleep. Then, when we do go to bed. He gets in first. And by the time, I get in... he is in the middle of the bed... with get this!... a pillow next to him as a make-shift barricade... just to make sure I don't get too close. I get into bed and then call the dogs from his side of the bed... to mine. But he stops me, "They're fine!" Me-"Are you sure? I just don't want them to bother you." Him-"Yes, I said they're fine." So, basically I am the only problem. I am the only one bothering him while he is trying to get his precious beauty sleep. Heaven forbid I should want to sleep next to the love of my life. You want your space asshole... you're gonna get it.

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