Home > diary, feminism, literature, P, pride > Very, Very Scary

Very, Very Scary


So we’ve made up. And kissed. It’s like the routine now, and again we’ve fairly – and squarely – stuck to the script. I mean, we’ve stuck to the script, mostly and boring-ly. Fair and square.

So now that we’ve made up, usually the next couple of days are dripping with sweetness and togetherness and love. Each of us can’t get to hug and to hold enough of the other. This time, we’ve deviated. Sharp words aren’t rare. Stupid, but we don’t even care. We didn’t even talk and endlessly dissect our argument and discuss conflict resolution strategies. Avoidance philosophies. Or even say “I meant” or “you said”. If nothing else (and often it isn’t anything else), it is cathartic. After all, P may be a guy, but he’s my best girlfriend now. But this time, he was busy working last night. Barely acknowledged my presence in the room, on the same bed as he was. Part-naked. Murmured brusquely if ‘this’ meant we were on again. Obviously, I didn’t let him off with just that, but I was tired and the noise in my brain had stopped on being with him. So we spoke for a while of cabbages and kings. I’d counted on today, what with his 1-7 p.m. deliverable behind him et al. And he couldn’t get off his computer. HIS computer, but this is mine by agreement. Resentfully he goes off it, but keeps playing with the RSA ID. I can’t leave well enough alone, and I point it out that we’ve just come out of a fight and have hardly spoken. Or was he always expecting that we would automatically make up and so we didn’t need to go the path of the Foucault pendulum in full? He makes his paedophile expression & says no, but he could imagine living without me. Out of the blue. And I’m again back in the toxic atmosphere with my legs cut off. And the noise in my brain has begun again.

Yes, I’m a sucker. What is scary is what he said. What is very scary is the timing. Like any abuser, he knows I will not opt out now – I have nowhere to go. And I know he’s just been asked to do the integration part of his project. Like Tehmina Durrani, I can time his bold gestures of shooing me away with other women.

What is very, very scary is me knowing this and still sticking on.

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Categories: diary, feminism, literature, P, pride
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