Working. On a Saturday. As I am required to. Everyone in my family is out doing what they do best: shopping (mom), playing soccer (brother), being a politician (father). The Boy is lost somewhere east of here, has been for the past hour. I am trying to simultaneously navigate him through New Jersey and also get enough work done so that I don’t have to sit back down at this computer at any other time during the weekend.
Clearly, neither is going so well.
The fog has finally cleared but last night was something out of a nightmare. The two glasses of wine I drank on an empty stomach gave the entire evening a hazy, blurry quality. I woke up this morning wondering if it had in fact happened.
Did I pick a major fight with my boyfriend over politics? Did I actually say that if one of our kids turned out to be Republican, I would love that child less? (Yes. And…yes. But I think I was kidding.)
Did I shut down completely and just expect the Boy to pull me out of it and then shut down even further when he refused to indulge me? (Yes. Yes.)
Did I actually lose his suit pants while grabbing the hangers from the back seat because I was angry and intent on making a point? Did they slip off into the middle of a rainy street with neither of us noticing? Or did they fall off the hanger earlier in the evening when he carried everything out to his car on his way to my place? (It remains to be seen.)
There was drama. Mostly of my doing. I’ve been feeling excluded a bit and wanted some attention. Brilliant plan, Clink. Now the pants of a $2,000 handmade suit may be rolling under a tire somewhere in Midtown West and you have that achey, unsettled feeling because you started a fight that blew up into something much, much bigger. That blew up into both of you questioning the relationship.
Like I said, brilliant!
I’m going to go to the downstairs freezer, where my mom keeps the good ice cream, and attempt to make myself feel better. Then I will force myself to make the rest of this weekend turn out much better than it began.
You seem to have a hard time handling success. Everytime things seem to be going smoothly, you gotta stir it up. Arguing politics? I keep wondering when the Boy is going to tire of your immature drama queen act!
Sam,
You don’t know me. You don’t know my relationship. You only know the few details I choose to reveal here, which is clearly not the whole picture.
It’s comments like this that make me want to post solely about buying shoes & eating healthy, instead of working something out on paper and putting it out there for strangers to judge.
I doubt you’ve been perfect in every relationship you’ve ever been in. If I’m mistaken and you have, please feel free to give me your secret.
I know what you mean about starting a fight that ends up getting too big to control. I started doing the same thing yesterday with mine (source? TJ’s doesn’t carry Hawaiian rolls. Somehow that was my boyfriend’s fault, because if he loved me enough, we would have gone to Ralph’s, where they have Hawaiian rolls).
What I have learned, and maybe that’s the position you’re also in, is to try to keep the stomach from being empty and the sleep from being un-had (and thereby the childish crankiness in check) and probably lay off the wine if you’re in any kind of state of mind where something like this might happen. I won’t always take my own advice here, but realizing the cause sometimes helps mitigate the fights before they get blown out of proportion.
i’m writing to echo sam’s comment, but in a non-cunty way. but seriously, you have to really try not to start these fights. if you need to hold off on the alcohol when you’re in a “mood,” do so. it’s just not necessary. you’ll be so much happier if you just stay sane and discuss issues instead of letting them blow up in your face
hey, i’m ryan & i just wanted to say eff all the people like sam. you’re fabulous and who doesn’t have some shitty times in a relationship.
PS- This blog is the shit.
I think I might actually be going through something similar. My boyfriend is changing careers, exploring a move to a new city, and — like you — I feel left out. If he moves … will he take me with him? Will we break up? And the whole spectrum of complexities in between. And I’ve been picking fights about stupid things that I’m not even mad about. No advice, just sympathy.
So, did it work out?
clink,
you do sound like a drama queen. that’s why it is so fun to read about you. sam’s just being honest, albeit in a bit of a tactless way. if you don’t want comments like that you should
a)be prepared to sacrifice some readers and stop writing about things you care about
b)be prepared to sacrifice some readers and delete the comment section
c) suck it up
Okay, now I’m going to say that I agree with the Anon before me, but I think they stated things a bit harshly.
You are fun to read about because you are honest and really very endearing. When you put honest things out there, there will inevitably someone that doesn’t like it. The most you can do is ignore them. You can’t tell them not to feel that way or to only post on your blog if they completely agree with you. Anyway, who cares what Sam says? I bet you’re prettier.
Now tell us what happened, please please please.