Grrrr

Everything, and I mean EVERYTHING, is getting on my nerves today.

Like… the fact that I spend every day cleaning up but my house never gets any better.

Like…asking my teen son to remove the dirty dishes and rubbish out of his room- I don’t care what the rest looks like – and he won’t.

Like… my daughter has stolen my make up again and I swear that’s why I look so grim today. Not really.

Like…I ordered wood on Saturday and after days of excuses that I accepted politely, he still hasn’t delivered my wood or contacted me.

Like…I have loads of presents to wrap and I can’t be bothered.

Like…I went in to two shops yesterday and neither sold mincemeat for minced pies – really? They do know it is Christmas, right? Oh yes…I forgot that they started selling Christmas stuff in October, but apparently not a jar of mincemeat.

Like…I had to chop my own wood (poor cinders here) and some pieces WOULD NOT SPLIT no matter how many times I hit them in temper with my axe.

Like…I’ve had chapped and swolleb lips again for over a week. And it doesn’t matter how much vaseline/lip balm/various over the counter remedies I buy, it won’t go and I think it’s an allergy. And if it is, I’m going to have to do the stupid fodmap diet.

Like…my sister told me my mum was visiting today. I said she wasn’t because of self isolating. She said she was. I got my hopes built up. I made homemade Irish cream liquer for her, poisoning myself with gluten because I am stupid and forgot it is whisky and had to taste it to make sure it was right. She now isn’t coming.

Like…I want to see and kiss and hug my boyfriend and wake up next to him and see his beautiful country and discuss our future. But I can’t go and I’m sure I won’t be going until April. And his ex girlfriends are circling like vultures.

Like…Christmas has never been the same since my Dad died and I got divorced.

Like…while I was writing this rant, my dog has chewed my vacuum cleaner attachment.

I. Give. Up.

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Anger and relief

As I said in my previous post, things with Wild Card were getting steadily better.

I told him I was worrying about him because he wasn’t himself. He said he was ok. We had a couple of good conversations, but equally, there were a couple when he was quiet and snappy again. I think what actually turned the tables was when he conversed with my youngest – he was his typical, animated and charming self. Half an hour later, he was not like that with me. Realisation dawned.

I know there have been other things going on in his life. And maybe that is affecting his mood and his reaction to me. I understand that. I wish I knew more about it to understand more but that’s his choice. But what was clear, is that he could turn off that ‘mood’ when he wanted. He could be normal with my son – jovial and happy – no matter what he was feeling. And I am grateful for that. Maybe he felt like he didn’t need to pretend with me. Or, maybe, the whole mood was because of me. Despite my apologies and tears and regret, he was still angry.

So, I got angry. Not a loss of temper as such, I didn’t start shouting or anything, but I challenged him. We didn’t argue but there were words. And then a hasty goodnight.

Half an hour later, I had to text for my own sanity. I told him I didn’t want to fight anymore and I just wanted to feel his love. Could he love me like before again.

His reply?

“Are you crazy? You know I love you.”

I asked him if he was still angry and he said he didn’t know. Which of course means yes. The text exchange ended relatively positively.

Yesterday, for the most part, things were back to normal. I was relieved. I felt like I was myself again. It had cleared the air, somehow. We had an evening of joking and laughing again. I was happy.

Today? Well. I am happy. But I’m pensive.

Is it OK that he took a week to come down from this? Did I deserve that? Should I respect his feelings and accept that people take longer to process this stuff than me?

What am I doing? Am I blinded? Are we really as suitable for each other as I want to believe?

How much has Covid and everything help contributed to this moment? Are my expectations too high or is my mood too low?

I long for him. I long for the day that I am next to him again.

But I can’t deny that there is a part of me that’s hurting too.