July 30
I shouldn’t have gone to your place Sunday night. I feel like a well of emotions and a rainstorm lives above me, overflowing my casing.
We stay up Sunday night watching the first two Deadpool movies. I felt like I was watching them along. You didn’t sit next to me the entire time…. maybe you could have rolled your chair over to sit closer to me. It always feels like you’re a million miles away.
The next day, we went to see the Deadpool 3 movie at the theater. You put your arm around my shoulder an pulled me in close as we walked. I was excited to spend time sitting close to you. Maybe even snuggled up.
But you didn’t touch me. I put my leg on yours at one point just to feel like I wasn’t going to float away. You didn’t touch me then, either. I feel like you don’t really want me around.
When we got back to your place, I curled up in your recliner and did some reading for school while you got ready for your work week. You grabbed you mail and got some upsetting news. You’ll have to pay another $200 or your license will be suspended – because of how fast you were driving when you got that speeding ticket in Georgia.
It put you in a shit mood and I could tell you were spiraling when you were quiet for a long time before saying you hate our country and your job. I got up from the recliner, walked across the room, and held you. You just sat there. You didn’t hold me back, you didn’t even lift your arms. You just stared at the floor.
I got on my knees and you looked away. All those feelings I had when I found out you told another woman that I was an annoyance came rushing back. I felt crushed. I got up from the floor because you were worried about me hurting my bad knees. I didn’t care about my knees.
I cared about you. IAnd the fact that you were hurting. I did mu best to talk you down from the ledge but I couldn’t tell how much of what I was saying was getting through to you. Or, if it was, whether or not it was helpful or making things worse.
After some long silence, I went back to the recliner to sit in my pain and confusion. It wasn’t the time to talk about how I felt.
Once you were done, you came over to your fish and played with one of the loaches. I did our psst psst to signal I wanted a kiss. You gave me three chaste kisses and they ignited me. Probably because I’m touch starved. I offered you a blog job and you turned me down. It took everything in me not to break down in front of you. I’d already cried in your bathroom. So I asked to borrow your bedroom this time.
We left and for most of the drive back to Indy, I was trying to figure out what to say to you. I still wasn’t sure by the time we got back to my house but I didn’t want to feel how I felt all week until I saw you again – this wasn’t a conversation we could have unless it was in person.
I asked how you thought the relationship was going. You thought things were good. There was a pause before you asked me my perspective. It took everything in me not to burst into tears before I could give you an answer and when I finally did, the dam broke.
I was an absolute mess. I told you how I felt, how much of the time it felt like you could take me or leave me. How you not touching me translates to rejection – and it’s not just about the sex. I told you that sometimes it feels like you don’t even like me.
I didn’t express my disappointment that we wouldn’t be doing our couple’s workbook. Or tell you how it feels like your not sure you want to do the things you talk about… or about how the last two times we’ve been intimate I faked my orgasms because it didn’t really feel like you were into it.
But I think I put enough of my emotional bagged on your plate that the time.
You told me you love me but that you still have armor on. That touching and being touched basically repulses you. I asked if you don’t trust me. You said you do. But how can you? What do you need armor for if you trust me? If you can’t be vulnerable, there’s a trust issue. but I dropped it and just le the cracks in my heart deepens.
one of the other reasons I say it was a mistake is because I’m now a day behind on my assignments and I’ll have to do double work one of these days (probably today!)
Plus I missed T’s first day of high school and wasn’t here for M’s dentist appointment. I felt like a failure as a student and a mother. So here. I’m,… maybe we should cut down on how often we see each other… just the weekends you don’t have the kids and no more sleepovers.
Maybe seeing you less will help me pump the breaks. I feel so stupid. Why am I over there thinking about eloping to Scotland and fantasizing about having another baby with a man who doesn’t even want to touch me?
stupid…
Wednesday, July 31
It’s a day of endings. The end of the month. The lat day of summer break for most of the kids. A farewell barbecue. Final chance to work on my incomplete assignments.
I’ve never broken up with someone before I lost feelings for them. And of all the men I’ve been with, I’ve only ever been dumped twice… and one of those times was in high school. Even thought I was usually the one to end a relationship, I never did it flippantly except once. How does that song go? Darling you are the only exception.
It’s wild to think this is where my head is when just two months ago I was in agony because we weren’t together. To be clear, I’d still be in agony today, were that the case. It’s hard to picture a future without you. It’s nearly equally dificultto convince myself that the future I envision is even grounded in reality or possibility. I’m just over here daydreaming about the improbable.
I need to take my meds and get started with my schoolwork. Like I said, I have a barbecue later today. And personal training. And a meeting with my processor. And bird routes. So not a lot of time to waste doing something like writing unnecessarily long paragraphs in my Mark journal.
I do hope to get some more letters posted to the website this week.
I have two assignments left. One is a reading note – an essay on a certain topic from the weekly readings. The other is my 10-page final paper. Thankfully, I’m already 8 pages in. So just a couple more to write then a proofread. I’m worried I’m overestimating my ability to bang out a thoughts words or so. At least I have a meeting with my professor tonight to go over everything. Maybe I’ll get lucky and he’ll give me a few more days on the essay if I turn everything else in. I need to get the reading note done tonight. I think. It’s the only way to guarantee I’ll finish it and have time to work on my final paper.
Off I go to personal training…
The gym is always such a release. Thaddeus is really committed to my success and we’re moving to phase 3 of my workout regimen. I feel good about what I achieved today and I know mu arm are going to be sore in the morning.
After I got home I spent some time playing with E. She’s so desperate for someone to have fund with. I kinda wish we’d given her a little sibling to play with. The older kids are “too big” for her games now.
I had my meeting with my professor. It went really well. I went ahead and turned in what I had and he’s giving me two extra days to wrap up my final paper and the last reading note essay.
I’m apprehensive about spending time with you this weekend. Maybe we can just go on a hike or a picnic intead of doing the whole sleepover thing. I know I have to stop deciding how you feel for you… I can’t help but wonder if sex has been a burden for you…
Dinner is ready so I’m going to go eat.
We did rose and thorn tonight. T was no surprise: he was glad he didn’t get lost riding the bus again. E’s bud is that school is tomorrow. M dyed her hair but it didn’t come out like she’d hoped. C’s rose was having pizza for dinner – no shock there.
What are we going to do? I ache for all of you. For aviation in my head to be real. To feel desired and cherished. To know you feel that magnetic pull that makes two people want to be close to each other. To relish in the warmth of your touch and the strength of your embrace and the softness of being next to you. I can’t explain the pain it is to know you can get by without my touch. To feel as though I’m not a comfort to you. That you don’t yearn for me. Ouch.
letterstomark.com 
Leave a comment