A New Future, A New Fight
So progress is being made. At least, that’s what I’m hoping. No, no – not on the parent front. The little foray into healing that we attempted there seems to have deteriorated rather quickly. No, what I’m actually talking about is things between Adders and me.
I think as relationships go, Adders and I have a rather good one. We genuinely enjoy being with each other (which, I know, seems like a given in any relationship, but it is important nonetheless), we make each other laugh, and, well, he still makes my heart flip flop with just one flash of that smirk (or one goofy email sent to Charkins). I love him and he loves me.
BUT. We have not had a good past 10 months. And this would be because of me. Obviously all of the stress that has been taking place in my life has taken its toll in our relationship. Sure, relationships do change (wow, could I say the word relationship any more times?), and it would be naïve to think that regardless if any of this “other” stuff hadn’t taken place, we’d still be in the lovey dovey spot we were last summer. But still, as Addy and I are fond of saying, as a couple we’ve been merely existing or even clawing to exist, since I left for Vancouver last September. In no way have we really moved forward.
But that’s fine. We had a TON of shit to go through. And in many ways, it was perhaps better for us to go through what we have. We’re definitely stronger as a couple, more trusting, more intimate and more knowing of whom one other is, warts and all. And I’d rather have all my illusions be stripped away now, than have to do this later on in life. In fact, it’s kind of a reassuring to go through hell with a person and then come through on the other side and look over at them and say, “Wow, I DO still like you!”
But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that half of our battle this past year was with me and my own insecurities rather than just the issues with my mother. For a while there this past winter and spring, I was breaking down every single weekend. I was constantly accusing Adders of not loving me enough, not doing enough, not caring enough, not being there enough. I felt like I was bleeding to death and he wasn’t giving me a large enough transfusion. Weird metaphor, I know, but oh so true.
And indeed the truth was that he couldn’t do enough. There was no end to my needs and wants and desires and desperateness. So every weekend was fraught with this, my clinging on to him and my double life in Cranbrook with every inch of my being. I mean, looking back now I can scarcely believe that I joyfully, happily, willingly got up at 4:00am just so I could spend a few more extra hours at his side.
I don’t want you to think it was all bad. Because it wasn’t. We wouldn’t still be together now if we also didn’t have a lot of fun on those weekends too. But many times it was unbearable and it seemed that our never-ending fights just revolved around the same re-occurring theme of me screaming: why don’t you love me enough?
And then suddenly things changed. At the beginning of June, Adam forced my hand (which is really the only thing that can be done with me these days), we found an apartment and plans were set for me to move back to Crannie.
And now everything in our relationship has shifted. Suddenly we’ve become filled with new hope, new promise, new potential. We finally feel like we’re moving somewhere, moving forward, building a future. And I am so excited to finally be here. Right here. In fact, I have waited my whole life to be at this moment, to have found someone I love and who I want to share my life with and to begin this wonderful journey of building our very own story.
Adders and I’ve talked about this, more or less, over the course of the past month, about how joyful we are and how we hope things can FINALLY get back to some semblance of normality. Of course, we’re changed, irrevocably so, but hopefully we’re changed for the better.
All I know is that things feel different. And the proof is in the pudding. Because last night, Addy and I had our first HUGE MAJOR ANGRY SCREAMING BAWLING NAME CALLING fight we’ve had in months and it had NOTHING to do with how much he loves me or anything of that sort. In fact, it really had nothing to do with us.
And while it was a really bad fight, one that I’m still a bit fragile and emotionally bruised from (the same goes for him, I’m sure), I’m also relieved to know that we’ve made it to the other side, that we’ve conquered the mountain that was the past 10 months. I’m so very happy to know that we’re actually capable of fighting about other things other than just us, as ridiculous as that sounds.
I’m also relieved that even though I was still ready to punch him in the face when I hung up the phone, we were able to end the conversation with simple “I love you’s.” And I didn’t even say, “Do you really mean that?” and make him reassure me 22 times.
Because making him say “Yes, I promise, I do love you, for always” 13 times instead of 22 is definitely progress, wouldn’t you say?
Two more sleeps, you guys. I simply can’t wait…
I think as relationships go, Adders and I have a rather good one. We genuinely enjoy being with each other (which, I know, seems like a given in any relationship, but it is important nonetheless), we make each other laugh, and, well, he still makes my heart flip flop with just one flash of that smirk (or one goofy email sent to Charkins). I love him and he loves me.
BUT. We have not had a good past 10 months. And this would be because of me. Obviously all of the stress that has been taking place in my life has taken its toll in our relationship. Sure, relationships do change (wow, could I say the word relationship any more times?), and it would be naïve to think that regardless if any of this “other” stuff hadn’t taken place, we’d still be in the lovey dovey spot we were last summer. But still, as Addy and I are fond of saying, as a couple we’ve been merely existing or even clawing to exist, since I left for Vancouver last September. In no way have we really moved forward.
But that’s fine. We had a TON of shit to go through. And in many ways, it was perhaps better for us to go through what we have. We’re definitely stronger as a couple, more trusting, more intimate and more knowing of whom one other is, warts and all. And I’d rather have all my illusions be stripped away now, than have to do this later on in life. In fact, it’s kind of a reassuring to go through hell with a person and then come through on the other side and look over at them and say, “Wow, I DO still like you!”
But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that half of our battle this past year was with me and my own insecurities rather than just the issues with my mother. For a while there this past winter and spring, I was breaking down every single weekend. I was constantly accusing Adders of not loving me enough, not doing enough, not caring enough, not being there enough. I felt like I was bleeding to death and he wasn’t giving me a large enough transfusion. Weird metaphor, I know, but oh so true.
And indeed the truth was that he couldn’t do enough. There was no end to my needs and wants and desires and desperateness. So every weekend was fraught with this, my clinging on to him and my double life in Cranbrook with every inch of my being. I mean, looking back now I can scarcely believe that I joyfully, happily, willingly got up at 4:00am just so I could spend a few more extra hours at his side.
I don’t want you to think it was all bad. Because it wasn’t. We wouldn’t still be together now if we also didn’t have a lot of fun on those weekends too. But many times it was unbearable and it seemed that our never-ending fights just revolved around the same re-occurring theme of me screaming: why don’t you love me enough?
And then suddenly things changed. At the beginning of June, Adam forced my hand (which is really the only thing that can be done with me these days), we found an apartment and plans were set for me to move back to Crannie.
And now everything in our relationship has shifted. Suddenly we’ve become filled with new hope, new promise, new potential. We finally feel like we’re moving somewhere, moving forward, building a future. And I am so excited to finally be here. Right here. In fact, I have waited my whole life to be at this moment, to have found someone I love and who I want to share my life with and to begin this wonderful journey of building our very own story.
Adders and I’ve talked about this, more or less, over the course of the past month, about how joyful we are and how we hope things can FINALLY get back to some semblance of normality. Of course, we’re changed, irrevocably so, but hopefully we’re changed for the better.
All I know is that things feel different. And the proof is in the pudding. Because last night, Addy and I had our first HUGE MAJOR ANGRY SCREAMING BAWLING NAME CALLING fight we’ve had in months and it had NOTHING to do with how much he loves me or anything of that sort. In fact, it really had nothing to do with us.
And while it was a really bad fight, one that I’m still a bit fragile and emotionally bruised from (the same goes for him, I’m sure), I’m also relieved to know that we’ve made it to the other side, that we’ve conquered the mountain that was the past 10 months. I’m so very happy to know that we’re actually capable of fighting about other things other than just us, as ridiculous as that sounds.
I’m also relieved that even though I was still ready to punch him in the face when I hung up the phone, we were able to end the conversation with simple “I love you’s.” And I didn’t even say, “Do you really mean that?” and make him reassure me 22 times.
Because making him say “Yes, I promise, I do love you, for always” 13 times instead of 22 is definitely progress, wouldn’t you say?
Two more sleeps, you guys. I simply can’t wait…
posted by Divine K @ 11:40 AM
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