27 Days

Today I am thankful for cycles.

I made myself sick over the weekend.

I did go to the Pagan Festival with Steve.  I bought the tickets, we may as well use them.

We shared a tent. I spent a good chunk of the time crying.  Crying makes me look funny and gives me sinus problems which, in turn, leads to bad breath, no kissing, and no fun.  Steve kept talking about my insecurities.  He's a little concerned that I spend so much time worrying about my appearance that we don't get around to having horizontal polka parties.

When I'd ask if I need to work through my insecurities before entering into a romantic relationship,  he'd get upset.  We'd go rounds.  I'd start to cry.  I couldn't sleep.  It was weird. 

I feel incredibly judged by Steve.  There is one point where he implies that I "sit around the house all day" which really hurt me.  At that moment, I realized that I DO NOT want a relationship until I have a 9-5 job that has measurable hours and a consistent paycheck.  Voice over and hypnotherapy is not consistent.  It is invisible work.  When I miss a day because my voice is gone, I spend the next two catching up.  That comment hurt me the worst.  He's right though, compared to who I was before I met him, I do NOT do a thing.  I haven't given a speech in two years.  I haven't pulled a $2,000 week in two years.  I haven't been published since 2010.   I DO NOT do the things that I want to do.

Our trip was NOT romantic at all.  I don't want to say how I characterized the weekend because it is not polite.  I describe it as the two Fs: Fucking Fighting.

I heard Nick's band play at the event.  I could feel his bass move the earth.  The drummer seemed to be doing a decent job.  It was his first gig with the band.  He lead singer's voice sounded a little sharper, like it was calling for my attention. 

I didn't get to see them.  I was on the other side of the hill, trying to do the right thing.  I was trying to talk it out with Steve.  I was trying to find common ground, even if we can't be lovers.  I wanted to see if we could salvage the friendship.  

I don't know if I managed to get to any new understandings with Steve.

I learned that there was another woman pursing him that he had a slight interest in. 

He learned that I developed an interest in another man but wasn't in a place where I wanted to pursue any relationship at all.  In fact, I asked Steve what he wanted.  He wanted me to promise not to have sex with other men; a promise that I find incredibly easy to keep given my need for solitude.  He wanted me to promise to visit with him once a week.  That is easy to do, too.  The only problem is that our mutual friends are sick of the game playing. I can no longer be with Steve at any activities our mutual friends partake in. 


For this reason,  I give our relationship until Friday.  I predict that Steve and I will not be speaking by the weekend.  I left the non-violent communication group to spare the other members the drama.  He's going to be angry when I decide not to attend.


I know it sounds weird.  I know this to be true.  We've never gone 27 days without some type of bizarre conflict that gets me cut off from him.  We've been a public item for six months.  We've spent 50% of the time non-communicado.


I am learning that this is happening to my friends, too.  They'll say something he doesn't like.  He'll chastise them.  He'll openly criticize them and vow to never speak to them again.  They'll tell me to stay away from Steve.

*****

The weekend was full of synchronicities.  I lost my car keys somewhere in the forest.  It is NOT an easy task finding a car key lost in a national park.  I wanted to get the heck out of there but had no ability to do so.


I woke up at 6:00 on Sunday morning and began searching.  I was so angry at Steve that I could not speak to him.  He searched with me.  It was cold.  It was rainy.  Fortunately, the rain hid my tears. 


As I was walking through the camp, searching for my keys, I overheard a couple of crones gossiping.  One piped up


"I don't know what she sees in him.  He's a jerk.  He's mean.  He's arrogant."
The other interrupts,
"Yes, but he's good for her.  He grounds her."


I always believed that if you wait for the lesson, all of your troubles just unravel.  That must have been the lesson.  A woman found my keys a few minutes after that. 

I was tasked with driving Steve home. I bitched the entire drive back.  It was snowing.  Traffic sucked.  The two hour drive stretched out three hours.  I gave Steve many strong warnings.


"If you EVER call me "looser" again.....I will get sex organ enhancement surgery that will make me tight but kill my ability to orgasm."


"If you EVER call me a "sociopath" again....I will have sex with you and expect you to sign over the deed to your condo right away because sociopaths do things like that." 


"If you EVER send me a text saying "I deserve" and never finish the sentence again, I will assume that you deserve a surprise party with seven gay midgets who want to dress you up as Snow White."

"If you EVER threaten to ruin my reputation again, you will never get anything interesting in bed."


"If you EVER make a public display of a breakup game again, I may just pick a new sausage from the Sausage Parade."
He really has no clue how many men come out of the woodwork wanting to......uh.... comfort a vulnerable women.   I guess it took him four break-ups to understand what I meant when I referred to this stream of male vultures as the Sausage Parade.


I went on and on and on.  I dropped him off at home.  All he got for his trouble with a closed mouth peck.  My breath was bad.  I didn't want to share.


That's one of my faults, I b!tch until I say my peace.  I guess I need to learn how to let things go.


My throat is sore this morning, probably due to my constant complaining.  I am going to try drinking some lemon juice and catch up on my recordings. 


I have a job networking event this afternoon. 


I'm pretty busy for someone who sits at home all day doing nothing.


Love ya,


S.