Totally in my head all morning. Critical, harsh, depressed, stuck in the past, worried about the future.
While running, I'm coaching the backwoods girls in how to run, when they haven't even asked. I'm arguing with LA about his comment this morning (I've twice said that I'm taking the AA battery out of the weed sprayer, he says to keep it bc it's cheaper to buy the refill, then when I say "no" he accuses me of being argumentative). [Put it on your to do list, now]. Yes it's cheaper. No I don't want more shit accumulating in the garage.
That sounds like two different problems, but just take out the battery and get rid of it.
I'm worried about him leaving, constantly it seems. What I do doesn't seem good enough. Saturday night he hinted and hinted that we wanted his spaghetti squash cooked to Arlette. Finally I did it, after he wouldn't do it himself. Then we didn't eat it, and wanted to know why I left it out on the counter (because I thought he wanted it). Finally last night, he's complaining that I didn't pick the seeds out for him!?
I feel like sex for him is an entirely experience different for me. He gets stress relief, emotional something, release, happiness. I don't. I get the pain at first, the waiting for anything physical, the lack of anything physical, then the fear that he'll be unhappy. I've turned to being grateful that he's not outwardly unhappy as a way to make myself feel better about it.
I don't know how something that can feel so nothing for me, can be so amazing for him that he keeps wanting it. I often feel like a place he can just put his dick. In my mouth. In my ass. In my pussy. Were I to lose one or more of those, I fear I'd lose him.
It's not that I don't enjoy the sex. Instead I enjoy the time with him, otherwise it's work and chores and youtube. But I experience it so differently. I want something different from it. If I could put that in words, I need to tell him.
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