….it’s not like I didn’t see this coming. It’s not as if I haven’t felt it deep in my bones that we wouldn’t make it.
A lot has happened since I last blogged in April. A lot is actually the understatement of the year, so if there is an award for that, give it to me now because I win, hands down, no contest.
I am officially NOT great. I used to be great (at least I used to think I felt that way). Not anymore. I’m so over it and so completely jaded at the idea of relationships. This shit is too hard (on me mostly; he doesn’t seem to give a shit).
Here’s the deal: we all know I want to get married – my family knows, my friends know, my co-workers know, and I’m pretty sure perfect strangers know as well. Even HE knows. But he doesn’t care. I told him before we hit our 5 year anniversary (this was August 2014) that if he didn’t have the intention of marrying me in the near-ish future (I didn’t put an official time limit on it – only that I didn’t have face wrinkles or HAD to dye my hair to cover gray), that I didn’t want to hit the 5 year mark with him. 5 is kind of my thing. I love the number, I do things in groupings of 5 (not all OCD like, but sometimes), and aside from all of that, it’s a HUGE milestone. But if he didn’t want to get married, or wasn’t sure, that was on him to end things, because I was content to just go along in life knowing that I was with someone who was committed and who wanted to marry me eventually. That’s kind of the point to a relationship, right?
I TOLD HIM THAT. I sat him down and had an adult conversation with him about my goals in life. I spelled it out for him, clear as day, that I was happy with him, and we could be together forever and all that sweet nonsense, but if he wasn’t completely sold on the idea of marriage as an end game…then it was up to him to end the relationship. We are adults. That’s what adults do.
Apparently, I’m dating a child.
So, the 5 year mark passed, and the little girl that always imagined her perfect wedding was all happy and giddy inside! It might not be today, or tomorrow, or even 4 months from now, but he wants to marry me since he didn’t break up with me! Hooray! I was elated that everything seemed to be going so well. But, let me tell you, if it seems too good to be true, it always is.
A couple months past the 5 year mark, he got drunk. He Got Drunk. The kind of Drunk where it all come spilling out. The kind of Drunk that you get when you’re a man, but you’re also too big of a pussy to have an adult conversation sober. I’d like to point out that up until the drive home from dinner (that’s right; we had dinner and drinks – a couple for me – the top shelf for him) that we had a fantastic night. Good conversation, lots of smiles, happy happy happy. I believe his trigger (it’s always something with him) that night was listening to the local top 40 station on our 7 minute drive home and him bitching about music these days, the shitty lyrics, the awful overproduction, ad nauseum. I believe I said something along the lines of ‘it’ll be okay. It’s just cheap pop music. I enjoy it – it makes me happy for the few minutes it’s on in the car.’ That was the wrong thing to say, because he started going off on a tangent, blah blah blah. He’s a musician, as we have discussed, so I think he’s just jealous – not like I’m going to point that out. So I listened. Once we were home and inside the house, he plopped on his side of the couch (which his hair product and awful way of sitting has ruined, BTW) and kept going off. I finally said, ‘Hey! Stop. We had a good night so let’s not keep being all negative and shit.’ Apparently that was the worst thing I, or anyone else in the history of the world, could have possibly said ever, so he turned his anger at the music industry on me.
He told me, flat out, that he was no longer sure he believed in the idea of marriage. He didn’t think he wanted to ever get married. He said that people only get married so they can have kids and since he didn’t want kids, he didn’t see the point in a little piece of paper. He told me he had felt that way for a long time, since before I had the conversation about it prior to our 5 year anniversary, but he wasn’t sure how to tell me. Then he had the audacity to ask if I was okay.
I stood there in the dining room, mouth gaping, staring at him as if he was a complete stranger, when the bottom dropped out of my world.
This was not how it was supposed to go. Not even close. I won’t bore you with the details of this otherwise normal Thursday night, but I told him to get out of my house. I told him to call someone to pick him up, because I didn’t want to be in the same universe as him, let alone the same house. He told me he didn’t have anyone to call, and I told him I didn’t care if he rode around in a cab all night, he needed to get the fuck out. He ended up calling the one guy on the planet that is more pathetic than him, and spent the night in his filth. I told him that he was not to set foot into this house until he thought about what he had said, and if he didn’t want to get married, we were done.
He came home around noon the next day. I know this because I was up all night sick, so I didn’t go into work. “Hi babe,” when he walked into the house, as if the night before hadn’t even transpired, “why aren’t you at work?” You. Must. Be. Kidding. Me.
I told him I was sick and didn’t feel like talking until he had showered his stink off. This boy REEKS after 2 beers. So add the whole top shelf plus whatever nasty cigars he decided to smoke and I wanted to vomit even more than I already had.
I was empty inside, physically and metaphorically.
Once he was clean, he asked if I was hungry. Really? REALLY?
So, okay. I told him we needed to talk. We talked. He said he wasn’t sure why he said all of that, because he loves me and he didn’t mean to hurt me, but he thought I should know he wasn’t sure about the whole concept of marriage, but he was still open to the idea of marrying me, because he loved me and wanted to be with me. What the fucking fuck?! Now he’s putting me on, because seriously?
He said he handled the whole situation wrong (ya don’t say?!) and he was very sorry.
And like the sucker I am, we went out to lunch. Things were fine. He had successfully reassured me that marriage was still on the table, and he would, for sure, 100%, tell me if he was ever completely against it. Because I deserved that. I deserved the honesty.
It was a whole new world for us after that. Things were legitimately GOOD. I was almost borderline great for a hot minute too. Almost. Damn that word.
Tonight. Oh tonight.
He had a show and I was (and still am) completely exhausted. So I stayed home to nap. It was a local gig, roughly a 10 minute drive at the speed limit. He should be home by 1:30/1:45am. Cool. I have time to chill on the couch, have a delicious glass of wine, watch a movie and a couple shows, and just relax.
He barely texts (which is normal), and then he goes, and I quote (except the names, because, duh, anonymity all around):
“I hafta ask u one question. going along with BF and Mewling Quim thing. and how u get mad. r u mad that i dont wanna get married? had to ask.”
WHAT IN THE FUCKING FUCK?
[backstory, BF is his best friend, and Mewling Quim (http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Mewling+quim) are engaged and getting married this year. I don’t like her, because she’s a MQ, and since I want to get married, I’m jealous. SO what? I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t get mad, I just asked him to spare me the details that I unfortunately had to hear 42408995 times last weekend because she won’t fucking shut up.]
Why in the fuck would you text me that? Are you kidding? He must be drunk. So much for driving. Then he texts me that a couple of his old work buddies are taking him and BF out, and BF cleared it with MQ already, so I should be okay with it too.
Yeah, not after that text message; not in this lifetime. I would have been bummed about the going out and not coming home, but I could have handled it better had it not been for that text. Why in the fuck would you say something like that to me over a text and then pussy out and not even come home? WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?
So we argued over the phone. Cause if he isn’t going to be mature, neither am I. I am just so blindsided right now.
He said that a stranger asked him when he was getting married. So that prompted a text to me. He’s an idiot. I am almost (but clearly not) at a loss for words.
I don’t know the proper way to put letters together to convey the hurt and sadness and disappointment I am feeling. I read those 31 words and my skin broke out in a sweat, went numb, and flashed hot. I almost threw up where I sat.
What is so wrong with me that he would say that over text?
I feel like everything is a test with him and that I am failing.
I’ve been putting off having the marriage conversation again, but looks like he did it for me. It seems there is no hope for a ring in my future.
Almost 33 years old and I have to start all over again.
& if my life is true to form, once he and I break up and go our separate ways? The next girl he dates is the girl he’s going to marry. Every. Fucking. Time.
He told me that he would be home by noon to have our day together. Did I mention already that I locked & blocked the doors? I don’t want to see him. I don’t want to talk to him. I don’t want him to try to be apologetic and charming and manipulative. He will be. I don’t want him to see me cry again. I wish I was stronger.
I’m just so sad. So unbelievably fucking sad.