We had unprotected sex last night. We do it a lot that way. I used to be a huge fan of condoms. Scoff at the idea of never using them and was always increasingly cautious of what type of diseases I could acquire without one. Then I met the man I married and everything went downhill. On a particularly emotional day after a funeral, I got reckless and stupid and gave into everything I knew I shouldn’t. After that there was no looking back. Suddenly I couldn’t stand the sight of them, the smell, the fact that they came in flavors. I was repulsed. So I got on the pill and then another and then after four long years of feeling like I’d lost my mind I finally got off them. We tried condoms again but they still didn’t work for us. I thought about an IUD but have heard enough horror stories and know my own body enough to be confident I’d be traumatized for life. Plus I just wanted my body to get back to it’s original state, to even remember that it had one. So now we’re on the “sometimes pull out, but mostly use the calendar/cross your fingers and pray to God I didn’t miscount” method. We’ve been on it for over a year and I haven’t had a single scare. I neurotically pee on pregnancy tests all the time just to be sure. Sometimes I worry one of us is sterile, other times I’m so convinced I’m pregnant I break out in hives. So far neither of those thoughts have proven true. I really don’t risk it that much. I know my body and I have a long cycle. One of my best friends is every 22 days exactly. Every month right on schedule. If she even breathes near semen she’ll end up pregnant. I’m more of an anywhere between 32-38 day kinda girl. There’s a lot of leeway.
Anyway.
We had unprotected sex last night and I didn’t care. I didn’t care what day it was on my chart. I didn’t care if I got pregnant. I just didn’t care about anything other then being close to him. We’ve been fighting on an off for the last three days and I want to rip my hair out. Though everyone else in my life will argue the contrary, I loath arguing. It’s petty and stupid and usually both people are saying the same exact thing just in two different languages. And yet, everyone consistently tells me that I have to be right about everything. I often try to explain this away because it infuriates me. Telling me I always have to be right is a pansy ass way to back out of an argument. I just have a very particular way that I do things, it is not a matter of being right about doing or deciding on anything. I have always tried really hard to listen to what people have to say, to let them defend their reasoning and to be brave enough to tell me when I’m being an asshole. I am stubborn and I know this. If you can’t give me a logical or an emotional enough reasoning to provoke empathy or change, I’m going to continue to do things the way that I want. After all you do things that you want all the time, why can’t I?
While stubborn, I am also extremely sensitive to peoples reactions. I try to brace every decision off of what I think they might feel or think before I say or do it. You can stop laughing now. I really do this. That doesn’t mean I’m not careless or impulsive with my words on occasion. I am and will always be. I can’t help it. I’m socially retarded. I will hurt your feelings in a sharp swift manor that will leave you breathless and angry. I will offend your very core because I will tell you the truth. I’ll barely register that I’ve done anything wrong and you’ll be so shocked you’ll stop speaking to me all together. And it is 100% my fault. My fault for surrounding myself with the emotional, my fault for assuming you have any sense of self awareness, my fault for not expecting you to take me so seriously, my fault for thinking you actually believe in your convictions, my fault for thinking you understand anything about me, my fault for misinterpreting the definition of maturity. My fault for all of it. BUT if you can’t defend yourself then what the fuck am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to change for the betterment of your psyche? If you’re calling me 6 months after the fact and telling me you’re upset about something I did, if you’re calling my parents long after I’ve moved out, if you’re flat out yelling at my father while I’m sitting oblivious 3000 miles away…well I’m sorry, but you’re an asshole.
I thought he was different. I thought we understood each other on a basic level. He never used to hold things in or give up or end arguments with “fine great you’re right and I’m wrong once again” or let his insecurities get between us.
Ok. That last one is a lie.
So here we are. At an impasse and now I’m wondering how we’re supposed to continue because I thought we were over it. I thought maybe if my words couldn’t sway him then intimacy might. And afterward I laid in a state of coked out bliss thinking we were perfect again but he ruined it all by calling me a “crazy baby lady” as if I thought getting pregnant could save us from this stagnate state. The next day we fought again. This new apartment was supposed to lift me from the doldrums of the last place but now I’m not so sure. The brighter the space the easier it is to see the cracks in both of us. Is that too dramatic?
I hate fighting.
I hate it even more when you start an argument and puss out in the middle and make me feel like an asshole for having character. As if I’m not allowed.
So I’m sorry for not being sorry.
You want to fight with me, then fight with me and if you can’t win then do the gracious thing. Please.
Sigh.
He and I have always been two people on to different roads trying to get to the same place. The different “road” was what amused and attracted me to him in the first place and that “same place” was always why I knew we’d be fine through whatever we wanted. He has always made me stable and I would do anything for him but now his view of me is so full of resentment I can’t picture the dust settling. In an effort to turn it all around I suggested he come with a few reasons why the two of us were married at all. He fell asleep not answering.
It’s ok. I know he is exhausted and hopeless and depressed and sick and forever insecure about his life. I know this is normal. I know we will be fine.
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