Confused yet? Wait until I'm done telling you this tale!
The second thing that I have to note to you is that I am writing this out with my boyfriend's complete approval. Unlike in the past where I'd air my grievances after a relationship went sour, with no choice on the dude's part whatsoever... this one is a story about how a relationship started to go sour, then we had "a talk" and it all cleared up... though not in the conventional sense, of course. Ready?
December was a rough month here. D was stressed and was starting to act a bit manic. Outwardly to any friends who'd call, he'd act as if everything was great. What I saw, however was a man who was shutting down emotionally and it was affecting everything, naturally. He also insisted that I was not to bring up anything about this situation until after January 1st.
This demand in particular was the hardest for me. As a woman, I need to talk about emotions, because I know that they'll turn inward into something darker and far more destructive. As his employee, I was concerned about how it was affecting his ability to hit deadlines and make good business decisions. As his girlfriend, I was concerned about his health and about the health of our relationship as well, which was suffering as he was pulling further and further away into his pit of despair.
I'll spare you the rest. Only two other people know all the details, because I needed to get their opinions before I confronted D with our "talk" ... and because that talk cleared all those details up, they are not so important anymore. What is important to this blog is why I had the talk and how it went down.
During our Florida trip, I kept noticing an itchy spot here or there... usually just one hive or a small cluster, that would go away within a few hours. Nothing uncommon for me, really. But about 2 days after we got back, I broke out in a full-body case of the hives. I mean EVERYwhere... big, itchy, splotchy welts.
My hands suffered the most and I was constantly trying not to scratch... and they did not go away after a few hours. As a matther of fact, they stuck around for the better part of a week. On New Years Eve, they took over my lips and made them swell up into something that would make Angelina Jolie ask, "Do those things hurt?"
Now that you're thoroughly creeped out, I'll stop with the closeups.
These were taken at around 8AM on New Year's Eve, Sunday morning... immediately after D flew out of my house without making eye contact with me or kissing me goodbye, stating he had a lot of errands to do that day. On a Sunday. When everything is still closed. He was also saying that he'd see me in 12 hours or so. Nice.
I gave up trying to plead with him for more time or affection at that point. He did come back that evening and we spent New Years Eve night together, without my huge lips (Claritin Hives formula cleared them up, but not really the rest of me). He also helped take my mind off the itchiness for a bit, but he was still quite distant.
For the next two days after the New Year began, he remained extra busy and extra distant... perhaps he knew that his January 1st moratorium had passed and I'd be starting to prod him with inquiries again. Perhaps he was just preoccupied with his new job. All I do know is that nothing seemed to be getting any easier between us and I remained extra itchy... until late Tuesday night, that is. That's when it hit me: why the hives.
I tried to call him and have a talk with him at 2AM, thinking that he was up working, but he was already asleep... so I spared him the surprise attack. Instead, I imagined he was in front of me and I poured out everything that I needed to say to him... mostly that I just didn't know where I stood or how he felt about me. As the words poured out, so did the tears. After 30 minutes, I realized something had changed... suddenly, I wasn't itchy anymore.
I checked my arms and hands and they were clear... no hives. I checked my legs and everywhere else... no hives! Gone! I released the pressure valve and they immediately cleared up. The next day, I called D to tell him the news.
"My hives are gone."
"Really? That's great! Did you figure out what was causing them?" D asked.
"Well, yes. It was you."
I explained that the stress of being around him was causing them and that he and I needed to have a talk about some things that weekend... giving him 2 whole days of notice, which he'd previously asked me to give him a heads up if there would ever be any important, emotionally heavy conversations. In the 2 days that he had to wait, he tried to guess what the topics would be, over and over... he also talked to his friends to see what they thought "the talk" could mean. Apparently, they gave him good ideas, knowing him as well as they do.
When I finally got around to having the talk, D asked if I could give him a bullet pointed list of the topics. I laughed and told him that I didn't have such a list... so while I talked, he tried to keep them in a list form and boiled down to talking points. It was a little annoying having him ask, "Is this part of number one or are we on number two now?" But I was used to this... again, a previous mini-talk had shed light on this behavior of his.
When I was done with my part of the talk, D fell asleep... the next day, he asked me to type up the bullet-pointed list so he could review them over breakfast and discuss. Most girls would probably tell a guy what he could do with his list, but I obliged... and tried to phrase things the way he did the night before in his Cliff's Notes summaries of each topic.
For your amusement, here is a copy of that list:
The doodles are D's "explanations" of his own behavior. As a matter of fact, "Doodles" may become my nickname for D, thanks to this tendency of his. See the car speeding away from the angry monster and towards the happy sunset? That's apparently how he deals with his problems. I told him it looked like he was speeding into a blazing sun, where he'd burn up on impact. He wasn't too keen on that version.
I also asked, "What happens if it snows? Don't you need to pull over and put chains on those tires, so you can continue on? Sometimes you have to deal with a problem or you'll spin in one place going nowhere or you may loose control and wreck." He admitted that my version made sense, but he thought that his way was pretty good until then.
Notice also that he took issue with 1.A. -- mostly, he was concerned with why I would put an exclamation point there. I told him when I first typed it, it was in all caps and had THREE exclamation points behind it, so I thought that this version was a much milder form of emphasis in comparison.
He had a problem with me telling him not to judge me as well. That conversation was about being judgmental... rather than not using judgment... there's a big difference. We spent a good half-hour going round and round on that topic, but I think we both understand each other a lot better now.
And there you have it: how D and I talked our relationship down from the ledge. It could have gone in any direction, but we somehow managed to stay level-headed most of the time and incorporated humor whenever possible. After that, we were able to have our normal conversations again.
Like last Tuesday, for instance, when we were on the phone and D asked when we'd brought home Chinese leftovers (it had been 4 days earlier)... when I told him, we agreed that it would be too risky to eat... that the day before was probably the last day it was safe, and I added that he could still eat it if he had a time machine. He asked why he'd bother using a time machine to go back one day and eat leftovers. That's when I said:
"Are you telling me that if you only had one chance to use a time machine, but it was only to go back to yesterday and eat the Chinese food leftovers, then you had to immediately come back, you wouldn't still jump at that chance? Especially if it would be your ONLY chance to get in a time machine EVER again? C'mon. You know you'd do it."
He reluctantly agreed that he would, but said that he'd also leave himself a note or something. I told him that now he's messed with the space-time continuum and we're all screwed. As a matter of fact, I bet that's why it's been so warm lately... D left himself a note after eating the leftovers and now the world is going to collide with the sun.
Ah well, time machines suck anyway. I'd definitely use one to eat leftovers, though. That brings me to the thing that is driving my kids batty... I'm always on them about cleaning up after they eat and to put away anything remaining for later. They asked me why last week, which is when I said, "Save the cheeseburger, save the world." Now it comes out with everything and the kids are about to have a mutiny... all except Aidan, who still giggles a bit each time I say it. Then he looks at me crossways like I'm a dork.
I think this blog had a point, but it's 3AM and I didn't sleep well last night, so my points are all fuzzy and squishy.
I'm ending here.
Nite.
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