Over the couse of the last few weeks, I think Steven has wanted to strangle me. I've had doubts, second-guessing myself constantly. Did I look ok? was I gaining or losing weight? Did Steven REALLY want to marry me, or had he finally succumbed to my desire to be married? What was the change? Was it real?
Last night, it all came to a very, very important head--one of those desperately important, life-changing conversations. I don't think we've ever been this blunt or open with one another. We had gone to his aunt to get his hair cut, and while we were there, I was hounding him for attention, for confirmation. I wanted to be held and rubbed and crooned to. He wanted to play his crossword puzzle. I took the book and acted generally bratty. After we left, he pulled over in a small, run down community park.
"Knees in the seat," he commanded. The car, since the addition of the family roommates, has become his new favorite place to spank. I know he thought I was over-reacting, hard as I cried. When he sat him up and asked how I felt, if I was done, what all was I thinking--that whole mantra, all I could choke out was that he'd just ruined one of the last places we'd ever flirted.
Sidenote here: when he and I first got together, we had a very playful, challenging, competetive sort of relationship. Everything was a game, an opportunity to flirt, full of innuendo and drenched in promise. But, it's been quite a long time since I've felt that same intention. You all know how I've struggled with the sex issues, the feeling undesired, all of that. I told him that sometimes, when he spanked me for being 'smart-alec' or disrespectful, I'd been playing, and that I felt like he was trying to change my personality. That it was the same as if someone had asked him to give up all sarcasm. That I felt like it changed the dynamic of our relationship, and made me afraid to say what I might have said otherwise. And, ya know what? He listened. He heard me. I felt heard, way deep down inside, with more than ears.
He was baffled. And, so, for the first truly open conversation we've had in some time, I confessed to a lot of things: to being afraid to kiss him deeply, for fear he won't want it, or will pull away. The fear to flirt, because what if he doesn't respond like he used to? Or at all? And, my fear to instigate sex, or certain things during.
"
Why?" he asked, "Why would you feel that way?" And, (because he says I keep a log book,) I brought up some of the times that I'd felt rejected or not wanted. He didn't try to defend himself. He didn't try to deny it. I asked him why he'd stopped flirting, why he'd stopped pursuing me. I told him that I hadn't done everything right either--and I really haven't.
I am THAT girl. The one that's super easy to cheat on, or to lose interest in, because I get so focused on other things. I completely overlook the relationship part of our life together, most of the time. I want to be sure the house is clean, the dogs are looked after, we have enough money, I've worked long enough, hard enough. I want to chase our dreams, so that someday, we can have a farm with horse and four wheelers(his dream there, not mine), a big off-the-house garage, kids, adopted deaf kids, cookies always baking in the oven, dogs underfoot...And I picture us happy, sitting out on the front porch, still swapping secrets...when I've let our relationship completely go by the wayside. We don't talk, I don't ask questions. I've always thought a big chunk of relationships is truly just dying to know all the little things: that his favorite color is orange, that his parents convinced him when he was little that splinters fell out when you went to sleep. That his true love is antiquity and the unique. That, despite our choice of pets, he's terrifed of big dogs....and, I quit searching. I fell into the easy comfort of being with someone, and I quit asking the questions. In response, he quit.
"I understand if you're never faithful," I informed him last night. "I get too focused, and I forget to live our life together. I know I'd be like this with anyone, and I DO love you, so I guess I'm willing to deal with it." He looked away.
"I am going to be faithful," he murmured. Then, there was silence.
"What's in your head? I can't follow you," I told him after a few long, long minutes.
"That was just..kind of hurtful," Steven responded, quiet. "You basically just told me that you were settling for me." I hadn't considered it that way, and I told him so. I had just been making the point that I was as guilty for some of the things that went down(not necessarily the cheating, though that's how that sounded I know,) as he was. That I wanted to be chased, and loved and pursued, but I wasn't giving, and a relationship is a two way street.
And, certainly, I don't think he's been perfect either, but I've spent an awful lot of time feeling the victim. I haven't wanted to dress nice for a long time, I've felt fat, I've ridden myself hard about it, in front of him, to myself; I've not worn make-up or anything other than sweat pants. And, it's not that he so much minds. But, before, I WANTED to make myself look beautiful for him. I wanted to dress in the clothes he liked, wear my make-up the way he liked. Let my eyes be huge. Make out in a car, just because. Not with sex as the end goal, but just because. Look at him, deep into brown eyes that surely are as deep as the sky and let him read my mind. The second time we ever kissed, he pulled back and groaned, and looked at him.
"What?" I felt suspicious, all straddled up in the car with him.
"That look you just gave me."
"What's wrong with it?"
"Nothing. It said, 'I'm yours.' And it was perfect." And, he grabbed me again, deep kisses that I crave, even still. That's been years ago now, but I want that kind of fun with him again.
We're trying: as one song said, 'We're not broken, we're just bent, and we can learn to love again.' I do love him. He does love me. But, we need to bring back the fun and pure pleasure of loving again. We went on a picnic and laughed the whole time. He was trying to tell me where he wanted to go, and I said, "Oh, yeah! That place we got moonlighted by that cop!"
He cracked up, hooting, "Moonlighted?? Don't you mean
spotlighted??" And, we had fun. We goofed off. And, I'm really looking forward to our loving that way again. Last night, he was totally open with me. He told me, when questioned why he hadn't been the same, "I'm not as unafraid of rejection as you think...you've pulled back sometimes, too, Grace."
We both have some things to change. But, I don't regret my decision to marry him. Since that time in September, we've made great strides in our relationship. Strides I didn't even know we needed to take. And, this, this is more than a baby step. This was a hurdle.
And, ya know what WE did last night?
We made out. Just because.
And before?
We made out, pressed against the hood of his car.
Before that, we whispered secrets, and talked about work, each really listening.
And, I want to know all his secrets, and his desires, and what he loves. I want to go on a motorcycle ride and take a watermelon (flashback from one of our early dates. We road out to a rather in the middle of nowhere spot, and he forgot to bring a knife. "Don't worry, I can fix this," he bragged, and tried to bust it open on the edge of the table. Didn't work. He ended up using the edge of a grill, and we had charcoal-watermelon for lunch.) I am excited to wake up beside him. And, I miss him desperately while he's at work.
This was huge.
A hurdle.
And, it's just the start.
