January 2, 2001 (!) - 3:07pm
Well, I've rediscovered something.
I am alone.
Really.
I'm not talking about relationships, or lack thereof. I'm talking about life. And, in life, we are alone.
When it gets right down to it, that's it. You are responsible for you. Good, bad, and ugly.
What made me come to this realization, you ask? Well, charming Hubby and I obviously aren't playing on the same team when it comes to the house. I see trim that has a chunk out of it for no reason, drywall that is cracking in our so-new-it's-not-even-finished-yet house, cabinets hung with a gap so large you could drive a truck through it, etc. Hubby sees "it's fine".
Fine.
So, I get upset. This is a house I'm spending a LOT of goddamn money on. This is the house that is probably going to keep me working forever instead of staying home with my someday-kids. This house, in my opinion, should be PERFECT. It's not.
And, Hubby feels personally responsible for it, 'cuz he's mainly the one who deals with the builders. I can't even TALK to him about "IT", as he gets defensive and generally pissy.
Anyways, I break down into a "complexity crisis" last night. Bawling.
Hubby, Mr. Emotional, says to me, "I know that when you get like this you just want me to sympathize. Is laying here holding you going to be enough, 'cuz I don't know what to do." JUST FUCKING COMFORT ME. Do what you'd want done for you. Jesus. I want my mommy.
So, what I'm getting at here is that....well, even IF you're with someone...you're essentially alone. Alone to make yourself feel better. Alone to take care of you. Really, you're the only one who can do it.
Sucks, 'eh?
~L
