01-12-2018, 01:41 AM
(This post was last modified: 01-12-2018, 01:53 AM by King Ghidorah.)
My marriage is not always fantastic.
To elaborate, some of you courageous exemplars may have noticed that there hasn't been a DD update, even thought I said there was going to be one a week ago, and that at about the same time my personal writing, which had been rolling unstoppably along, came to a sudden halt. That is because last Saturday (whatever the hell the date was), my wife came home and immediately started ripping into me about the circumstances surrounding our wedding (which was five years ago, and which neither of us enjoyed thanks to a complicated tangle of reason having to do with our impressive mutual collection of neuroses). It was totally unexpected - this was an argument we've had about a dozen times, usually ending in tears and mutual conciliation, but she hadn't even brought the subject up in over a year.
I'd been planning on taking her out to dinner. I'd bought her chocolate. It was like getting hit by an airplane while out walking in fucking Chicago, and although we reached a point where we both agreed for the first time that there was nothing further to productively say on the subject, and that the argument was truly over, it was in another respect the last damn straw.
I don't hate, and I don't get mad; I get super-annoyed, and may even talk about people behind their backs like a furtive little bitch, but I don't usually carry anger around with me everywhere I go - however this time its just not going away. It's like my head is full of vindictive, whispering bees, and none of them like my wife very much. I still love her more than pretty much anything else, but I've also reached the limit of my ability to forgive her quickly for being brain-damaged and crazy (She has an emotional age of nineteen, and always will. That's when her brain stopped developing. Car accident.) Whenever she's not around - just her presence calms me down quite a bit - all I can think about is how good it would feel to throw our damn coffee-table off our second-floor balcony, along with all her breakable stuff.
I think she's hated me a little bit ever since we were first married. For the first time, although I love her more than anyone else I've ever known and dearly want her to be happy, I also sincerely hate her a little bit too.
And, abandoning my usually elaborate phrasing, its hardcore fucking with my head. So, in summary - the DD update is probably going to be another week late.
To elaborate, some of you courageous exemplars may have noticed that there hasn't been a DD update, even thought I said there was going to be one a week ago, and that at about the same time my personal writing, which had been rolling unstoppably along, came to a sudden halt. That is because last Saturday (whatever the hell the date was), my wife came home and immediately started ripping into me about the circumstances surrounding our wedding (which was five years ago, and which neither of us enjoyed thanks to a complicated tangle of reason having to do with our impressive mutual collection of neuroses). It was totally unexpected - this was an argument we've had about a dozen times, usually ending in tears and mutual conciliation, but she hadn't even brought the subject up in over a year.
I'd been planning on taking her out to dinner. I'd bought her chocolate. It was like getting hit by an airplane while out walking in fucking Chicago, and although we reached a point where we both agreed for the first time that there was nothing further to productively say on the subject, and that the argument was truly over, it was in another respect the last damn straw.
I don't hate, and I don't get mad; I get super-annoyed, and may even talk about people behind their backs like a furtive little bitch, but I don't usually carry anger around with me everywhere I go - however this time its just not going away. It's like my head is full of vindictive, whispering bees, and none of them like my wife very much. I still love her more than pretty much anything else, but I've also reached the limit of my ability to forgive her quickly for being brain-damaged and crazy (She has an emotional age of nineteen, and always will. That's when her brain stopped developing. Car accident.) Whenever she's not around - just her presence calms me down quite a bit - all I can think about is how good it would feel to throw our damn coffee-table off our second-floor balcony, along with all her breakable stuff.
I think she's hated me a little bit ever since we were first married. For the first time, although I love her more than anyone else I've ever known and dearly want her to be happy, I also sincerely hate her a little bit too.
And, abandoning my usually elaborate phrasing, its hardcore fucking with my head. So, in summary - the DD update is probably going to be another week late.