Hydro Electric (hydroelectric) wrote,
Hydro Electric

Because I Don't Want to Talk About It (sad face)

This morning I was hollering at M from my perch in the office about not being late to work, and to move faster, and to eat faster, and to dress faster, and to leave faster. I wasn't sure when the bus left so I didn't want him to miss it. At some point, while he was brushing he teeth, it occurred to me that maybe I should drive him to work, save him $2 and a half-hour, instead of just fucking around on livejournal.

Of course, I was comfortable, not finished with my breakfast, and in my glasses. So I approached him and asked "Would a good girlfriend drive you to work this morning?"

And he grinned, gave me a hug, and said "No. A good girlfriend would relax and eat breakfast to get ready to take the car in and buy some work clothes."

It occurred to me then, and I told him this, that that was one of the most heartwarming exchanges ever. I told him I appreciated and loved him, because he was quite possibly the first guy I've ever been with that told me exactly what's-what (and yes, he's done this in situations where he'd prefer I didn't sit around on my ass and instead drove him, too :P) So I told him that, while I love mindfucks and headgames at certain times in the evening, I was thankful that I could know exactly what was wanted and expected from me.


Later, after I did end up accomplishing most of what I set out to do, I was again sitting in my office and I noticed a piece of paper with unfamiliar red writing scrawled on the back. I have been going through boxes, some of which haven't been opened since before St. Louis, and I remember that I had found a few old pads of paper that I threw in the drawer. Well, one piece become separated and drifted to the floor.

Upon further inspection I realized that it was Doc's handwriting. There was a sad or disgruntled cartoon face on top and underneath it the caption "Because I don't want to talk about it."

And I thought that was fitting and clever, so I decided to put it in here to remember. One, as a delightful counterpoint to being with M now, where I can ask him outright and receive and outright answer. No slack-jawed hmms and haas or "I don't know, what do you want to do" or being told one thing only to deal with weepy "I thought you knew me better" crap hours later.

And two, well, I think a lot of the reason I was with him is because I didn't want to talk about it, by which I mean my relationship with him, the storm and stress I was experiencing internally, or properly mourning the loss of what I had thought was a good relationship with Brian.

That's all for now.
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