I am so tired of sleeping alone.
Every night my partner has to go home around midnight. My proverbial Cinderella. Only there's no glass slipper or story of a happy ending. Even if there was a glass slipper, I already know where to find it's owner so there's really no mystery there. It would belong to a man I'm in love with, at his home that he shares with his girlfriend of 12 years, a woman who doesn't even know I exist. A woman who is blind or dumb to his endeavors. He comes to my house every evening and we play nice like a happy couple, and it feels good and "normal" but then he starts checking his watch every 15 minutes so he can make sure he doesn't stay too late, so his ignorant, or damaged, or dependent, or oblivious, or...abused?...girlfriend doesn't get suspicious.
What is the point of our relationship?
He isn't interested in the things I am interested in. We don't agree about politics, class, racism, gender, or even about simple things like etiquette. It may sound ridiculous, but he asks me to go in the bathroom if I have to burp or fart, because "women are dainty creatures" and "aren't supposed" to have bodily functions.
He always has something negative to say. Always, without fail, even when there is a compliment to be had, he adds a stinger at the end. His compliments are back-handed insults.
The very nature of our relationship is a catalyst to my every insecurity. Insecurities that believe it or not, I've worked my entire life to dispel, or to weaken. My whole life I compared myself to a ridiculous standard of beauty. It caused me to compare myself to other women, with completely different bone structures than me. Women I could never be, but starved myself to be more like, threw up my meals to be more like. I spent so many years teaching myself to love my body and my skin and my face and myself. I got to a pretty positive place self-image wise. But apparently no matter how sure of yourself you are, no matter how beautiful you believe yourself to be...if someone you care about tells you otherwise or acts otherwise it is so so so so so sooooo hard to combat those messages. I started comparing myself to other women again. Women I saw him looking at, women I hear his friends making objectifying remarks to/about/at. I started getting mad at the women for my partners lewd remarks and gestures. I was mad at them for being more desirable than I thought I was, or more deserving of his attention.
Recently I've realized my behaviors. I've made an enormous effort not to even look at other women. Not to objectify them and break them apart into comparable body parts. And in doing this I'm starting to regain a sense of self. I'm starting to rummage through the pieces of myself that I've let fall to the wayside to preserve his feelings, possessiveness, and archaic rules of propriety. It's hard, but a work in progress and progress is going well.
What's wrong with me?
What am I doing with this person who occasionally makes me happy beyond compare, but mostly just adds tenfold to my feelings of imprisonment and confinement and claustrophobia. Why do I put up with it? Because I love him? Because I care about his feelings and don't ever want to lose his feelings of love for me? Love sucks.
Love sucks
Love sucks
love suckslovesuckslovesuckslovesuckslovesuckslovessuckslovesuckslovesucks.
Fuck
I DON'T WANT TO SLEEP ALONE ANYMORE.
.
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