I called him at work. Several times. To talk about how uncomfortable and upset I was about the weekend. I am not okay with jockeying for the front seat with his teenage son. I am also not okay with him sitting between us like a toddler. NOT OKAY. I set some boundaries.
It was NOT OKAY for me to call him at work with this stuff. He set a boundary with me.
That was not the result I was going for.
Boundaries, for someone like me, are sucky to set and sucky to get set upon.
I am not sure right now which one I prefer. Maybe having a boundary set with me feels easier to uphold than one I set for myself. No. Not Maybe. Definitely is easier. I am an obliger. External accountability turns me on. Internal accountability? Not so much.
Then his son was amazing with with my daughter when they babysat her for me on Tuesday and I felt like a petty little asshole.
I feel more in-love with Sean now than ever. And I still feel like I want him more than he wants me. I don’t know if that will ever change.
The only time someone has matched my ardor, they were abusive and mentally ill.
God help me.
“Just get with God, honey.”
Take it easy. Or Easy Does it. I have never done anything “easy” like in my life. How am I going to start now?
I want to write about the mental obsessions. The compulsive mental obsessions. And the flight response I experienced the other day. My body reacted as if a tiger was barreling down on me and all that happened was that I misunderstood a text of Sean’s.
I truly don’t want to live like this anymore.
I suggested we go to therapy. I think it is an awesome idea. He was not repulsed.
I hope this happens. Then I will have hope. Even though Pema Chodron thoroughly warns against having any.
Just be in doubt and discomfort, she would say. Just be in it.It ain’t going anywhere. And there is not enough therapy in the world to make it disappear.
The Future Project. My future. Hangs in the balance.
God be with me.
As if it ever wasn’t.