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exhilarationI guess that... you will just have to take my word for it, then, that this entire journal isn't one big lie.
It feels like it, sometimes, though.
I was the good girlfriend this morning and drove my boyfriend to the neurologist for his appointment - and I went in with him, too, because... he asked me to. Last night when I was so freaked out about how horribly I fucked things up with the therapist... he asked me if I would mind coming with him. He's kind of had this idea that he didn't want to go by himself for a while but... I don't know, didn't want to ask me. I mean... I would have gone before if he had asked me. He thought I wouldn't want to. But I was like, no, that's fine, I'll go.
But that's kind of his business and maybe doesn't belong in my journal.
He also thought I was somehow mad at him, because I was acting weird - I promised him I wasn't mad, I had no reason whatsoever to be upset with him, and not to worry about it... and I did not tell him what I was actually upset about.
And then HE pulled the "we need to talk" card on ME.
Yes really.
I was kind of shocked. This is the same boy who has to be lured into conversation. When do we actually talk, like really, really talk, not just me, you know, trying to be entertaining? Well... sitting at a bar drinking beer, we talk then, about anything and everything. It's partly the beer, I think, and also kind of that we're captive there. Nothing to do but drink and talk - or leave. And since we don't leave... we talk. And... when we're both supposed to be sleeping, we talk then sometimes. But that's like... spontaneous conversation. Not planned conversation. And when I announce that it's time for A Talk, he takes me pretty seriously.
But of course my first reaction is to get incredibly defensive.
And from there it just got worse.
In short - I fucked it up again.
It feels like it, sometimes, though.
I was the good girlfriend this morning and drove my boyfriend to the neurologist for his appointment - and I went in with him, too, because... he asked me to. Last night when I was so freaked out about how horribly I fucked things up with the therapist... he asked me if I would mind coming with him. He's kind of had this idea that he didn't want to go by himself for a while but... I don't know, didn't want to ask me. I mean... I would have gone before if he had asked me. He thought I wouldn't want to. But I was like, no, that's fine, I'll go.
But that's kind of his business and maybe doesn't belong in my journal.
He also thought I was somehow mad at him, because I was acting weird - I promised him I wasn't mad, I had no reason whatsoever to be upset with him, and not to worry about it... and I did not tell him what I was actually upset about.
And then HE pulled the "we need to talk" card on ME.
Yes really.
I was kind of shocked. This is the same boy who has to be lured into conversation. When do we actually talk, like really, really talk, not just me, you know, trying to be entertaining? Well... sitting at a bar drinking beer, we talk then, about anything and everything. It's partly the beer, I think, and also kind of that we're captive there. Nothing to do but drink and talk - or leave. And since we don't leave... we talk. And... when we're both supposed to be sleeping, we talk then sometimes. But that's like... spontaneous conversation. Not planned conversation. And when I announce that it's time for A Talk, he takes me pretty seriously.
But of course my first reaction is to get incredibly defensive.
And from there it just got worse.
In short - I fucked it up again.
