I see myself standing on the edge of a cliff, looking out over the stormy, steel-gray ocean, the sky heavy and overcast as cold flecks of spray dance past me on icy wind. I thought I knew where I was going, thought I had it all planned out. And then the road crumbled before me into the sea and I am left wondering, "What now?"
The search for answers has left me more discomfitted than before I began. I thought I was ready. I am not. We are not. And we will not be, so long as we do not build our plan together. I feel alone, like I put so much more into us, and though I am not unappreciated, I am left wanting. I don't know how to tell you this. Words, with all their suble nuance, are not enough to describe the conflicted turmoil that now swirls within me.
You are right to step back, but that step is as damaging as the plan was to begin with. Sad. Two acts taken with the best of intentions, both intended to bring us closer together, both pushing us further apart. I don't know how you feel. You don't communicate it. I feel disenfranchized, rejected, and ashamed that I do so. I can't bring up my hurt without your frusteration that I'm still upset. Yes, I'm still upset, and you're not helping.
You say you like where we are, but we aren't where you think. Or at least I am not. It's too late for that. Things have already changed, but you are asking me to back up from the brink I was so ready to fling myself off of and it hurts. I need time that you aren't willing to give. You can't understand why I need it, because you thought we were ok, as if one or two emotionally overwhelming discussions would be enough to make things "go back to the way they were." Your naivete is stunning, and completely male. The hurtful things I want to say to you to make my points would only push you away forever, and they burn, acid inside me, but I don't know how else to make them and so I remain silent. I am not your last relationship. You cannot apply those lessons to a completely different person. Please, at least tell me what those lessons are! You haven't even done that much.
I don't ask for much, or at least I don't think I do. I want respect, love, a clean house (to which we both need to contribute), accountability... I want to come home one day and find you've made dinner or planned out something special for us. I want to find cute little romantic surprises. If I'm stuck on duty and I say you don't have to come visit, at least ask me if I'm sure before you say goodnight. Offering to bring me something goes much farther then telling me to let me know if I need anything. One implies active willingness, the other passive.
I'm starting to notice those little things. People think it's the big problems that kill relationships, and I'm sure to a certain extent they do, but it's those insidious little things that you don't notice at first, that sneak up and pile up on top of one another until you feel like you don't even know the person in bed beside you. Where was the boy that always asked how I was doing? Where was the boy who wrote me poems, and seemed to be able to sense when I was upset or bothered by something even when we weren't in the same room? He's been replaced by the boy who expects me to unpack for him after we get home from vacation, who says that though he wants to marry me, he doesn't want to now, nor does he care to know the important things like my financials. Now it's like you can see I'm hurting but choose to say nothing, or simply don't notice. Or maybe I've just gotten better at hiding it. I'm not sure which option is worse.
I love you, I want to be with you forever, but we need help. We need to figure out what we need from each other, and not make empty promises.
I don't even know where to start.
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