Tired of Just Dealing
06 Feb 2010Dear Reed,
You’re at your place right now, and the chances are I’m not going to get to see you until Monday (so, until the weekend’s over, even though you left on Friday) and that I’m not going to be giving this letter to you because I’m too needy and insecure to even talk to you about the things that bother me, so I’ll write this up on here and let my feelings out so that maybe I can make it through life again.
I’m questioning whether or not you still care about me lately. And I’m having a lot of trouble, when arguing with myself over the issue, coming out with an answer of yes. And what’s funny is that it’s less an issue of what you do say to me than what you don’t, or maybe won’t.
I know that your relationship before me was one you thought you were going to be in forever. I know you were genuinely planning to marry the girl and that when it didn’t work out (through no fault of yours or hers), you were crushed. Twice. I know that you gave yourself six months of not seeing anybody after that relationship ended so that you could get over your remaining issues concerning it–and I don’t think you’re over them yet, but I can understand why.
But I need you to understand that your history is starting to get in the way of my needs. You don’t say as much, but I know you’re likely not ever going to tell me you love me for the simple reason that you’ve probably said it to someone else you held very dear, and, well, look at how that worked out. But that’s what I need from you. And it doesn’t even have to be an, “I love you.” It could be a phone call when you’re gone for a long enough time, or when I ask if you want me to come, an answer of, “Yes, I’d like you here,” instead of an, “I don’t know, it’s up to you.” When you don’t do those things, it makes me feel less like you’re neglecting to tell me you care about me because of your past and more like you’re just not saying it because you just don’t care about me in that way. I’m even starting to wonder if what I’ve come up with for your reasoning for not saying as much to me was just an excuse so that I wouldn’t feel so bad.
But I do. And it hurts.
Did you know that we’ve been together two and a half years now and you’ve only said to me that I was pretty once? And that it was because I kept repeating that I felt ugly in a specific outfit? Once, in two and a half years. Two and a half years.
And every time I talk about the possibility of us moving in together when I’m not in school anymore, you tell me that you can’t because you want to have paid of your student loans first. And you owe a lot. And it’ll take you a long time before you ever pay them off–and yet you still insist that before you think of anything, you want to pay them off. Are you reticent to talk about the future because you don’t see me in it or something? It’s not like I’m asking you to marry me. Or are you just figuring that I’m going to be exactly like your ex and that it’ll all go to shit, and you’re just thinking of where you’ll be when our relationship goes to hell and figure you don’t want to be incapable of living on your own when that happens? Because if that’s how you feel about it, then you should know you’re just making your fears come true by acting this way about the issue.
I don’t want to be a “fling” or “rebound” or whatever it is that I am forever, you know. And no, I’m not talking about getting married to you–since we both know how I feel about that sort of thing. I just want to have some sign… some feeling that if things get rough for me some time down the road in our relationship, you’ll be there to face it with me. And right now, it feels more like you would just run from me rather than support me.
I got pregnant recently and had a miscarriage due to my pill change (yeah, the ones the clinic gave me weren’t strong enough). And I didn’t tell you about it*. Why? Because when I thought about your reaction to my telling you I got pregnant, I figured you’d pull away from me, turn cold, and then think of nothing but what needed to be done about it. I myself stressed over it endlessly, so I can only imagine what you would have done.
I didn’t tell you. One of the most… emotionally turbulent events that could take place in my life right now short of someone’s death, and I didn’t tell the person I’m supposed to trust the most in the world about it. Because I didn’t think he could be trusted to stay with me through something like that.
Like I said, all I need from you is some small indication that you’re not just going to cut and run when it gets rough. Yes, you stayed with your ex when it happened with her, but you yourself have mentioned that problems like the ones you had with her aren’t ones you want to deal with again. All I can think of when you say something like that is that you essentially mean, “When it gets rough, fuck you, you’re on your own.”
And that thought terrifies me. Maybe I’m reading into what you’ve said too much, but I really don’t want to have to deal with my problems all by myself if they are to occur. That’s kind of one of the points of having a significant other, isn’t it?
But whatever. I guess all I’m saying is I’m tired of worrying, and I’m tired of just dealing with my worries without expressing any of them to you. From now on, you can expect me to be a lot more vocal about what I want/need from you, and if you can’t deliver, then expect some complaints as well, I guess.
Sincerely,
Nat