Saturday, Nov. 28, 2020 - 11:21 am.
The Christmas tree is up. My favourite season is here, but it never lives up to my expectations. That's not a bad thing, I guess, I have huge expectations from where I was a kid and from the whole season spirit in general. I not only cannot invest in too many ornaments, but also, this happiest season is easily the saddest one. The closest reason for us being the anniversay of my brother-in-law's death. So I just take it as it comes.
This week I felt hurt and angry at my two, uh, partners? Call it bisexual privilege to suffer twice. Andrew and Helen (is that how I said I'd call her here?), separately, are my greatest supporters, and they genuinely enjoy what I write. I've come to trust them in that sense, they don't just say stuff to do me a favour. And I know that because they pay attention to my work, they read into it and see things I can only dream an audience of mine would ever see.
But last Saturday, I ended the videocall with Helen in tears and I didn't speak to her for a day. She was being very pressing regarding the way I see myself, and she opened a few wounds which are probably dumb (I suppose a lot of people would like to swap problems with me), but also they're fundamental to me. They hurt me.
And she kept asking, like a little therapy session with no purpose, drilling me with questions about myself as if that would enlighten me. I kept defending myself, and that just reminded me of conversations I've had this year with W, my mentor, and my mom. One was about me being bisexual and the other as to why on Earth I don't want to have biological children. I kept defending a part of my existence to people that I love and love me back, but they didn't want to understand me as much as to get me to adopt their own point of view. Out of the goodness of her heart, that's what Helen was putting me through again.
I was able to articulate this on Monday to tell her. She was very gracious and paid attention, validated my feelings, owned what she'd done and apologised. I've been getting into fights with her, or more like into expressing resentments toward her, lately, as this journal can attest. The reasons for that are genuine, albeit the reactions are probably too intense, but overall I feel safe enough with her to react like that. She'll call me out on my bullshit if necessary*, but she'll always also allow me to explode, break down and then make things better. It's surprisingly therapeutic.
*On our videocall last Saturday, she did call me out for saying something hurtful the week before, when I also got mad at her. I apologised for that, and I was embarrassed for not realising what I did. I can get furious with her, but I never want to hurt her. On a happier note, while we're at it, our videocall had also unprecedented sex. That videocall was quite a rollercoaster.
Then yesterday, Friday afternoon, Andrew and I had some friction. I'd say it's the first time we've had a conflict since the pandemic started. That's not a bad record, though this had nothing to do with being on lockdown. I just say this to make clear that we usually get along.
I think he was frustrated with me because we didn't agree on getting something to eat for dinner, as I said we would. I own that. We'd also agreed on putting up the Christmas together after work. I kept working a bit past 5 pm, and he started doing it without telling me. I noticed that he was taking out all the decorations from the boxes, but he didn't tell me anything.
I finished my work and I found him working on his own while listening to a podcast. He seemed upset and I asked him what was wrong. He said nothing, he was just a bit hungry. That's a warning, this guy gets hangry. He didn't say he was mad at me for not following through on a decision. I started taking out other decorations and putting them on my own, too.
It made me angry and it hurt me, this passive-agressiveness of his of simply not talking to me. That on top of shattering the expectations that putting up the Christmas tree would be a lovely time together, listening to music we both enjoy, even though it takes like 15 minutes to put up our entire Christmas attire. But that thing of him not talking to me sends me spiraling and I cried in the bathroom.
Then he asked me what were we having for dinner, if I'd settled on something, and it turned out I was supposed to order it. I'd suspected he was trying to give me that responsibility, but he never said "you order it" (he never said anything at all, if you recall), so, as he is indeed the one who always order food for us, I didn't do it. Then he asked me how long the food would take to arrive and I shamefully said I hadn't ordered it, and then did it.
I think, I hope, he noticed I got upset at his moody silence from earlier. I stayed away from him after I told him I'd ordered, but then he asked if I wanted to watch a movie when the food arrived. I didn't want to yield and I didn't want to hang out with him, but unlike with my girlfriend, I have a hard time opening up to him about what's bothering me. On ther other hand, staying mad for long is exhausting, particularly since we share the bed. Like I said, I hope he understood that I was upset, but I don't think he'd get it's because he ruined a moment I was saving for the both of us.
The food arrived, we settled on watching a series that I started a while ago but we'd talked about watching it together, and he lit up the Christmas tree. Halfway through the first episode we were laughing, and the food was great, and he'd made screwdrivers and the Christmas tree was alive, and that was the moment I'd wanted all along.
We watched three more episodes, we ended up laughing and snuggling, and we left all tensions behind.
Not entirely, though, because I've been crying as I write about this, particularly him not talking to me. I know it didn't last long, and it sounds small, but for some reason it hurts a lot. I guess it's that thing of mine about being ignored.
I'm happy we got back to normal, but I often need to say things out loud in order to fully move on. I'm sure I'll get over this in a few more days on my own, but for now it still hurts and angers me a bit.
Anyway, I don't want to end on a sour note. I just needed to vent, because it turns out I don't have anybody to talk about these things. Obviously I'm not gonna talk about my woes of one partner with the other partner. Though it is funny that instead I come and scream about them to the world, but hey. I trust you can keep a secret.
Oh, and Andrew sent a friend request to my girlfriend. She wrote to ask me if he was indeed *my* Andrew. I said yes, and then she didn't say anything else about that. I'm curious if she accepted, and I know I could easily find out, but at the same time, I feel that whatever goes on with this transaction is none of my business.