Something I’d done irritated him.
He kept asking me what was wrong and I kept trying to explain that there was nothing wrong. I took his face in my hands, kissed him and told him that everything was fine. He didn’t believe me and I didn’t know why. I found out soon enough though.
He’d been in similar situations with the EX. Shutting down and her becoming nasty and making him feel like shit. He had tears in his eyes, while all I could think about was that I’d disappointed him again somehow. I couldn’t make him feel better and that made me feel worse. I was tired and I just couldn’t get the words out of me. I felt like he didn’t really want me around just then, I felt like I do when things get too hard. You know your first reaction is to bolt when shit like this happens. Why do I continually do that? He’s hurting and I run? I hate to be the cause of people’s pain and didn’t realize that it wasn’t me causing it. I was the catalyst, but not the
He told me about the EX and him. About how much she really hurt him. I’d never imagined the depths of pain that he’d had about that. He let me see him. My own pain I can handle. The pain caused by her- how do I deal with that? I started throwing my stuff in my bags and thought I’d just go home and let it go before the shit started and the anger started coming out, and before I got hurt. But then he said something that I didn’t expect- “if you love me you’ll stay”. I hadn’t any choices left then. I had to decide whether or not I wanted to give him the rest of me. Whether or not I could trust him with the bad as well as the good. I looked at him through my
broken heart and the fear. I heard his own fear.
I stayed. Of course I did. I love him.
We talked. He told me about his issues, about the abandonment he fears, about how the EX always made him feel bad, and about how he really wanted to make things work with her. That surprised me a bit. I’ve never felt like that. I am too selfish I suppose. I’ve never wanted to make things work with anyone. I never cared about someone enough to care whether or not things got hard- I did just leave. But he’s different. His pain is one that I understand all too well. And whatever I was doing, whatever trigger I found, whatever he was feeling, I knew how it felt too.
We talked about a lot of things, and the tears in his eyes, the jokes that hide his pain, the same things that I do. Laughing through the tears. Holding onto those pieces of ourselves that don’t allow us to be hurt again. And we were doing it to each other unintentionally. We finally fell asleep in each other’s arms, but neither of us really felt any better I don’t think. All I could think of was how to make him happy again. How to help him smile- and not that fake thing he does. How to make him feel good about himself again. As good as he makes me feel about myself whenever I think about him. I would do anything to make him smile again. Even give up that last bit of me that always runs.
Yes, for him...I will give even that up. Interesting.