Someday we’ll know

So, I had sex (well, some things minus intercourse) about a week ago. I’m pretty sure some things are coming into my mind because I’m stressed and figuring stuff out (like how much I can stick it to the Board in the appeal meeting that’s been programmed two fucking months from now; about studying; and general uneasiness now that my hormonal ride is passing -which is an interesting phenomenon in and of itself, I’ll make sure I learn more about it because I’d love to keep that energy and good mood throughout the month).

But in the ways that he has been in my mind, it’s mostly how when we’re in bed, it can feel pretty darn close to how it used to feel when we were together (which proves love isn’t rooted in passionate chemistry). How he’s perhaps in different ways than me, just as lost and unaware of certain things -he was initially upset thinking “a lot of food will go to waste” because he couldn’t fathom that a ton of veggies would disappear down my hatch, and he’d be saddled with tons of leftovers because he doesn’t eat much. From feeling like it was a rude thing to thinking it’s so inconsiderate, it made me reminisce about a time a couple of friends came over to my house and we had pizza, and I didn’t wanna get plates and shit out because I’d figured we could rip the box out, and had out a ridiculously small amount of napkins and was like, this should be enough, right? One friend was uncomfortable but saying nothing (I figured they just needed to try my way), the other one got some sauce in her chin while we were eating, so she just stood up and brought TP from the bathroom. Without communication, some things that are glaringly obvious to some are not so much to others, and I was really just trying to keep balance, to not be overwhelmed with things to do after they left. My dysfunctional homeostasis.

It was a tiny ass cutting board packed with veggies. He had so many comments about it. Then, as predicted, I ate them. He calmed down before that but I could see he was flustered when he saw me cutting extra. He truly is not in a position to see how that can be perceived as hurtful, or stingy, or anything. He’s got very little emotional bandwidth for “new” because he’s running so low.

Inflexibility. The hallmark of so many things, and yet he refuses to be tested for any of them. I roll with his style, because now I only really plan to see him like once a month, when I go to the city. Never in a million years did it occur to me that I’d see him differently, that I’d see him as someone that also needs a guiding hand (except he won’t ask for it, and I’m not some magical pixie that’s here to solve unsolicitedly problems far beyond my purview). This man held me for a year straight (minus my therapist’s vacation time and here and there weeks off) as I went through the hardest therapy ever (EMDR for trauma therapy). He held me as I cried and shivered after therapy, going straight to see him. As I overreacted to small things and felt triggered by anything and anyone. He was my safe haven. The relationship, as a thing itself, was pretty lonely for me because he flat out refused to discuss certain things (a traumatizing thing in and by itself), but as a human being, he showed me so much kindness and never took advantage of the extremely delicate, fragile state of mind I was in in that time. It was hard after the relationship meeting people outside of my therapist and him that do not say what they’re thinking, that would rather go by looks and things unsaid instead of communicating. That tell you they wanna hang out when they have zero intention to do so. The real world, outside of my safe haven, was a hard crash.

Then he left me, but that doesn’t take away the good part, right? (Does not in any way shape or form erase the bad part either, but I’m not interviewing him for a partner again, so this point is moot)

So, to see him locked inside his own mind, having that little bandwidth…the (emotional) stinginess makes sense. If you have none of your own, what could you possibly have to give, you know?

It pains me to see someone that has done a lot for me to suffer and be unsure as to how to go about life. Shutting down any piece of advice, doing whataboutism when something is brought up as a suggestion to change things up…seeing his dysfunctional homeostasis for what it is.

Well, since I don’t believe in talking the talk and not walking the walk, I’ll see how far my compassion goes. I know he could sleep better, and I know that my weighted blanket changed my sleeping forever. Could I spring for one for him? I shall see if I can.

There’s a moment when we can’t do things for ourselves (he could and should get this, but he won’t -he could afford it), but we’ll happily take someone else’s help. If I do it, if I buy him one, I’ll come here and brag about it.

In financial hopes,

L.