As I was contemplating my writing recently, specifically on this blog, I came to realisation that I have not been posting with the same transparency that I used to. Perhaps those posts were embarrassing in retrospect and I may wince when I read them again further in the future, but at the same time...they were a very truthful reflection of my feelings and my character.
I have never shied away from the truth, as painful as it may be, so I write this post with the truth on my mind and in my heart, travelling down these arms to these fingers that type it out for anyone to read.
It's not earth shattering or heart stopping but it's hurting me, inside and out. I don't think M and I are going to make it.
We are both immutable. I want a boyfriend that I can trust and depend on.
I don't want to be the person paying the bills and buying groceries all the time. For once, I would like to know that I could take a few days off of work and not have to worry about how I will make ends meet. I have accepted that this is the way our life is for the time being, and that it will change in the future, but after a year and a half, I'm getting impatient and tired of it.
Isn't it clichéd that he can still afford to indulge in smoking marijuana (not a lot, to be fair, but routinely), but is unable to consistently contribute to the household costs? It's like every relationship that I despised and looked down on. Girlfriend is a sucker who convinces herself that her boyfriend will change, but the truth is... at this time in our lives, we aren't going to change.
I've compromised. We both have and I hear about it. We've had to make changes and adjust to being in a relationship and being accountable to each other, but at the same time I feel as though he still lives wanting to be single and wanting to have his old life back. I wonder what was so great about it, that it's more desirable than a future with me.
Once upon a time, when we would fight I would feel torn apart, as if my whole world was on his head, flipped over, snow flakes whirling around my head like a snow globe.
Now there's almost this detachment as I watch our fighting, our storming about, our arguments and back-and-forth cutting comments. I eat popcorn as we cry and yell and shove. A long slurp of iced tea while we sit mutely across from each other, searching for words that we cannot find. So in the end, I will be as helpless as everyone, for I am an observer, enslaved in the fact that I cannot change him. He will not be changed and I am unable to live fully and contentedly the way we are, so there it is... I watch and wait.
Sometimes I simply sit still and consider the pros and cons, the "love" that we have for each other (which for some reason cannot supersede the desire for drugs), the closeness and intimacy, our friendship, the conversations and laughs we have versus the numbness, the discontent, the sadness, the loneliness and isolation, feeling second string.
So I don't think we're going to make it, because if we were, I wouldn't be sitting here typing this out silently while he flips through some sketch books and doesn't bother trying to talk to me or discuss the elephant in the room. I'm exhausted through and through, tired of the ups and downs, the tears and anger. I'm tired of having to explain how and why I feel a certain way. It's tiring. I barely have energy to go for a run now and these just drags me down even lower.
Is this what every relationship is like? Do I stick through it to what will hopefully be a brighter future? Do I remain sad and discontented, living on a pipe dream?
Maybe we have given it our all and we just aren't compatible. Maybe we could try harder. I don't know.
I feel like I don't know anything any more.