…in one conversation
There is a contentness among us. I tell Refuses weekend after weekend that I am always suprised at how easy and comfy our relationship is.
And he told me how content he is at work. We are both content with where we are, yet we are in two different places. How is that even possible?
And then there is the places conversation. I want to go somewhere together, but I don’t want to leave, and I don’t want to move to LA. So we (and by we, I mean I) start listing off cities- cities that don’t really matter because our jobs haven’t taken us there yet, and we have no reason to move.
But we talk. And he says “Well, we are both due for carreer changes in the next couple of years, so why don’t we just let it happen?”
And this is how we are content. I plan for the impossible, for the blurry future, and Refuses smacks it away with calms words and replaces it with the present that I love.
I’m a chicken. I couldn’t have the conversation with my roomie I promised myself I would have tonight.I was going to be an adult, not bottle every conversation up and let it eat me alive, but rather say “hey, you know I think there are a few things we need to talk about.”
But I didn’t because I was too scared of the result. To scared she would be mad at me, not scared at all that she would say no.
So tomorrow I am going to convince myself that having her mad at me won’t be the end of world. Tomorrow is the day.
today could have easily played a huge part in a series of events that I will come back to me, as I look back to pin point where it all went wrong.
I am sitting in the dirty shoebox, which is where they send little boys and girls when they misbehave (also known as my bedroom in the new place.) It is an unfinished room, with one blue wall, and basically has enough space for one full size bed and no natural lighting.
I was an emotional wreck today, basically a mix of feeling grateful, taken advantage of, and too chicken to speak my mind.
Happy Tueday everyone.
I don’t come home everyday to bug you. I don’t walk through the door and ask how your day was so you can give me that “wow, you are annoying” look. I wasn’t plotting on the way home how I was going to piss you off tonight, and when I left my dishes in the sink this morning it wasn’t to simply piss you off.
I didn’t pack anything before you got home because I knew you expected it, yet your “You got far while I was at work, thanks” comment still warranted a “you’re welcome.” We get along great except for all the times you forget that NOT EVERYONE IS EFFING LIKE YOU. It doesn’t bug me that the knives are in the wrong slot, or that there are clothes on my bedroom floor. Frankly, you are the only one that has a problem with it, the only one that decides it is annoying- So don’t tell me to make an “executive decision” on something small, because we both know I wasn’t asking for me. If you could chill the eff out, my sanity would appreciate it.
My life’s goal isn’t to annoy you, so stop mistaking the way I live my life as simply getting in the way of yours. I wouldn’t dare waste my time, plus I am sure you would disapprove.
End of Rant, part 1.
Girl movies really mess with my head. Girl movies that analyze girl thinking about boys with boys also analyzing girl thnking are a million times worse.
He’s just not that into is great, frank, and relatively entertaining. But, holy hell, if there is ever a girl move to make you feel lonley, that is it.
End of Rant, part 2.