dragonflycq

This week has been the all around WORST WEEK EVER in my relationship with Rob.

And I have to say...it's all my fault.

We've done nothing but argue all week, and it makes me ill to my stomach.

I was already not feeling good about us last week (as you read in my last journal...those of you that actually fucking read it), and knew that I hadn't figured it all out yet, and that I should just keep it all to my damn self.

But of course, that didn't happen.

It all started a week ago when he was supposed to come here right after work & pick me up & go see a movie....well, my car happened to be parked around the side of the building instead of the front, so he came...he left...went all the fucking way back home to call me, by which point I was furious that he had forgotten.

Let me just preface all of this by saying, I cry when I get frustrated. And I've been frustrated all week, so you can imagine how shitty poofy my eyes look right now.

Anyway....we argue last friday night...we argued Sunday night when he didn't make time to come over like he said he would. By the end of that one...I was somewhat OK. But then Monday happened.

He took, what he calls a 'vacation' from work so that he could clean out his apartment (that he's been living in for 9 years) in preparation of buying a house in the spring. He works more than I do (if you can believe that), and won't be able to get another week off to do this, so it was extremely important that he finished.

Granted, I didn't take up all of his time arguing...but the stupid shit that we were arguing about out on the fucking street at 2am Monday night, and then again Wednesday night, was something that he didn't need to hear...at least not this week.

I need to stop drinking so much fucking wine. He doesn't drink. When I drink...I get extremely emotional & confrontational. Add that to having my period this week & already not feeling good about us for at least a couple months coming, and KABOOM...all my thoughts come rolling off my tounge in no fucking order.

It's not like I said stuff that I shouldn't have said, like, you suck, you're ugly, you're bad in bed, whatever, because that wasn't near what this was all about. It was all about me, and how I'm still insecure, and how I always take it personally when he forgets to kiss me here, or grab my hand there, or say something nice. It was all about me being afraid of growing apart from him because I thought that's what it felt like because our combined work week hours total 145, and it's not every week that we get to have an evening to ourselves, even though I think we should work on making that easier. It was all about me feeling like an asshole everytime he buys me dinner, or a movie, or a fucking trip to New York, because I should be able to support myself and I can't (fully). It was about me getting pissed at myself for not knowing what it is that I'm supposed to fucking do with my life and taking it out on him...when that isn't even my fault. It was me feeling like I've wasted my 'degree', it was me getting pissed that he went out and saw a movie with an old friend instead of working like he needed to so that he would have time for me, and me getting jealous when he says he's wants to use another girl for a record cover instead of me (he later informs me that he wants me to shoot it & actually get paid for it this time...so asshole me).

It was about a bunch of stupid fucking bullshit that just swirls around in my head, that had I not been a drunk this month, had I not been on my damn period, had he not been taking a 'vacation', we would have been fine.

I can't find all of the words to appologize. I can say I'm sorry all I want, but it just doesn't feel enough. I don't know what I can do to let him know that I deeply regret this week other than turning back time & erasing it.

All I fucking want is for us to be better. We will. But not right away. I will most likely get to hang out with him tomorrow night. He's determined to finish what he started. As a workaholic, when you set goals for yourself, you fucking do them no matter what...and if it doesn't look like he's going to get to, there's no way I can say, hey what about hanging out with me time? All I want is for us to have a nice, relaxing dinner, and then I just want to lay around with him and be happy and laugh, and watch tv, and cuddle, and make out, and NOT have this week hanging over my head, because until that can happen, I'm STILL gonna feel like the asshole no matter what. Until he forgives me.

I want us to go away and not think about Richmond & work for a while. I want to get us back on track.

The one thing I do know though...Is that it's not over. Us that is. He would have dropped me on my ass at the beginning of this if he didn't care. And that's something I'm still having trouble grasping.

I've always had terrible relationships. Coming out of college, I was EXTREMELY jaded. You wouldn't even believe half of the shit dudes did to me, and yet I kept picking losers. I have a problem with liking to hurt myself. It was kind of a cycle I was on in college, meet new dude...have lots of sex...all of a sudden everything BLOWS and I cry myself to sleep for several weeks till I feel better enough to go get hammered and find another loser to bring home.

I just kind of wonder if this has something to do with that...subconsciously feeling like I should fall back into that cycle...of liking to hurt myself. Because I definitely just did. But I hurt him in the process. And that's not cool.

I'm still probably going to cry myself to sleep tonight, and I'm still probably going to drink one too many glasses of wine, because that's the only way I can calm down from this right now. Because the only way I used to know how...was go sleep with somebody else & end it. And I won't do that. I could never do that to him. I love him dearly...sometimes I think I love him more than I should, because it hurts. But love hurts, you know? Or at least so the song says. So maybe this is what my relationships are intended to be till I die. This explains why my heart always feels like it lives under a shadow.

I gotta go home.