Hold On To Something
Once I’m overwhelmed, tired and stressed, the deterioration of my emotional state takes over – beginning with a slight disconnect and leading to the bone-dry direct exchanges that can leave folks feeling like I am heartless. Case in point, last night I returned from a long day of work and one-hour sleep the previous night to a down-home dinner party hosted by none other than Mommy Dearest. When I asked her, “Why did you invite all these people over when my apartment is really not ready for company?” She responded, “Family is not company.” So I gave a heavy sigh, went to my bedroom to change into jeans and a wife-beater and just fell into my role as a passive host. Needless to say, by the end of the evening I was fuming at the close to two-hour kitchen clean-up and subsequent post dinner conversation with my parents. By this morning I awoke with FIRE in my ‘tude and was wound tighter than a packaged slinky. I arrived at the office late (again) and was running at break-neck speeds when the call from BD arrived. I smiled (my only one for the day) and picked up the phone looking for that one reprieve from the stress that has me fraying at the seams. “Hey boi…how’s it going,” he said. His voice sounded down, tired and mirrored my own angry-at-the-world tone. “What’s up? You sound out of it pa,” I answered. “Well, I didn’t get much sleep,” he began “thanks to running into an ex yesterday.” My left eyebrow climbed ¾ of the way up my forehead and I felt my nostrils expand. “So what happened,” I asked. And so began his little tell-all….They haven’t seen each other in over a year; Had broken up after BD apparently was more interested in the relationship than the ex was; blah, blah, blah. I waited for him to finish and said, “Well, he apparently rattled your cage and your inability to sleep last night indicates you care more than you’d like to admit.” Sensing my cut-to-the-chase response to his story he said, “Not at all… I just didn’t need to deal with him last night. That shyt is dead.” I continued my silent pause. Oprah Winfrey once said that if you let people speak you’ll get a lot more out of them than if you insert yourself. “I just ended up walking away,” he continued, “with him yelling behind me that he was going to call to discuss it further. I was like, ‘sure call me,” he finished. So you opened the door to him calling you to discuss the matter further? What is that all about? More importantly, why would you want to tell ME about it? So then I quickly thought back to our little intimate conversation a few nights back when he mentioned that he was scared…blah, blah, blah. During that conversation he also mentioned that whenever he felt himself getting as close as we were getting he normally runs. Is this the new plan? Have me run and save yourself the wear-and-tear of the trot? All said, I’m not amused and could hear my inner Star Trek captain say, “Shields!” I didn’t ask any questions and simply said, “It’s getting busy around here, so I have to run. Talk to you later.” I could sense the tension – on both ends – and replaced the receiver. I’m going to hit the gym in an hour and work-out all this frustration. Ultimately it boils down to what I’ve lived by for quite some time….If I don’t let you get close, you can never hurt me. I hate it when I don't stick to my own rules and regret it later.
Some things are better kept under wraps. Yes, I’m glad I’m privy to the happenstance of last night, but I question the motives or desired outcome of such a disclosure.
Would you share a story with a romantic partner that didn’t serve to strengthen, enlighten or in some positive way impact the relationship?
Keep passin’ the open windows…