If you could hear me you would have heard a big sigh. I made this a friends only post, but now that my boyfriend has a journal he'll be able to read this, oh well, I need to be able to share what I'm going through with my pals on my journal so as long as I'm not being too public with this stuff then I just have to hope it'll be okay.
We were just IMing each other. He was going to come over tonight at ten or ten thirty, but he's tired and we haven't had dinner yet, and he wasn't hungry. We were talking about canceling tonight when I started to tell him about my scary dreams from last night. I'd started to tell him earlier but he gets really busy at work. I totally understand and had thought I would tell him when I saw him tonight but since we weren't going to see each other after all I thought I'd tell him while he was there on the computer.
He made this hurtful joke and then he was kind of callous and disconnected when I was trying to get him to understand how it hurt my feelings. This kind of thing has happened before, this hurtful joking that he does sometimes, when I tell him something serious. Although he said he was tired and distracted by the television, which in itself is hurtful, being made the victim of a stupid callous remark, because he's too busy watching television to pay attention to what I'm saying to him and what he says back.
I'd copy the IM in here directly, but he's very private and would be offended. I'll just recap it; basically I started telling him about my dreams. First I told him that I dreamt he had gotten braces, and these weird, coke-bottle thick glasses. He looked really geeky and strange, but I remembered thinking, this doesn't matter, I love him no matter how he looks. Then I told him I had some scary dreams about going to gynecologists, being put on different tables, my feet in stirrups, being frightened and treated really badly. His response to this was what hurt me, he replied with a sensitive and witty, "Maybe you should put braces on your pussy." What?
While he was writing this to me I had been writing about how frightened I was, that I was in pain, and that all of these gynecologists had been rooting around inside me, pinching me, hurting me, and that I was hemorrhaging, bleeding so much that I was coughing up blood. The dream had been so disturbing that it stuck with me all day. After his creepy distracted response I tried to figure out what to do, because he doesn't always handle my hurt very well, so I just copied what he had said, and then pasted it back in and added, hmmmmm, hoping that in reading his own words he would see how insensitive his remark had been. Then he said, don't be mad (because that's all he really cares about, being mad at him scares him because it brings up his fear of abandonment) and I told him I was hurt as opposed to mad. Then he told me he had thought we were signing off and had been distracted by the television. I told him I wanted to go, but he gets insecure when he thinks I'm mad at him. He told me he'll call me in an hour. Why an hour? TV or pot? It seems cynical and sad, but I don't get that he wants to resolve things as much, because he's concerned about my hurting, as he is about his having to live with the discomfort of being in conflict.
I deserve so much better than this. I know he's tired. I know he's an escapist addict and I love him despite these flaws. He loves me despite mine. I try to look the other way, except when I'm made the victim of them. I deserve to be in relationship with a Scott who cares about me, who cares about something as seemingly inconsequential as my dreams. I deserve a partner who when he's communicating with me in any form, is taking enough time to be careful not to say something stupid or vulgar or hurtful. He always has an excuse when he hurts me, it was his tiredness, it was the TV, it was an alien landing on his fucking roof that made him behave like a boorish bastard and say that stupid thing, that's what it was.
It's just that my parents used to do this to me all the time. They were always buried in work, or the paper, or the television. I was so incredibly lonely, all alone in these big houses, no brothers or sisters, my parents always away or busy, with only the maids and cooks for company. I remember having to stand in front of the damned television, or waving my hands in front of the paper to get their attention. I love Scott, he is so wonderful to me most of the time. It's just that when he is off he is really off. When he behaves in such an insensitive freaky sexist kind of way I get really hurt and put off. I wonder what it is about him that makes him do this. Is he high? Doesn't he care? I know he's tired but I just don't get it. How can someone so pro-women make such a tasteless insensitive joke?
I forgot to mention that my cat Friendly died. At least I don't think I did. What a sad couple of days these have been.
Thanks for reading.
Love you guys,
PS: I just got off the phone with him. I had to wait the hour for him to sober up, and for whatever fucking television show he was watching to be over. I cut the call as short as possible. I'm such a schmuck, oh and we ordered dinner delivered, and it had been over an hour and a half since I called. It got here a while ago and Beau didn't even bother to tell me. I ordered an extra dinner for Scott, who will probably make this whole thing all about how mean I am to him, by not just understanding he needed to be a television watching party head. I love him so much and sometimes I feel like I should just get over it and not make such a big deal about these little things but it really hurts. It hurts to have him not pay attention enough to me because he's toos toned and distracted to care enough to. I am so depressed. Don't worry I'm just feeling sorry for myself, I'll be over it by tomorrow.