Last night i broke down crying because of him--he would say because of my depression-- in a way that I did all the time in the past, and often enough now that it can almost be called a regular thing, although it's gotten much better with time. it's fair enough that he attributes last night just to my tendency to pick out the worst and dwell on it, but i'm well enough acquainted with these episodes to know when there is absolutely no real (that is, not purely emotional) basis for my sadness, and to know when things are different, and there is something real sparking this tendency to break down that i'm trying to overcome.
and something real was hidden below the surface, although it was sparked by things that would seem trivial to him. it's not the fact that he's away all the time campaigning and i never see him, not the fact that he had meetings all valentines day and I was just penciled in with the promise of a day to make up for it. it's the feeling i keep getting that he is choosing to be away from me.
in some sense, of course, he isn't. he feels like he has to go to all of these functions, to be fair to the rest of his campaigning team, to have some chance of winning the election; because it's important to him.
i get that, but in the very real sense of choice he can always choose instead to show me that he loves me. i just found out that he doesn't even want to have our belated 'valentines day' until after the runoffs. i.e., he can't give up just one night of campaigning to make me happy, and to make me feel like i come first.
he used to say that, at the beginning of the campaign: that i come first and he would give up the campaign in a heartbeat if i wanted him to. he doesn't say that anymore. he says not to compete with it. what he's not saying is that now, i'm not first anymore. maybe he doesn't feel that way, either. but i do.
i feel like i have to ask to spend time with him, ask to have s**, ask for him to help me out around the house, or to help me at all. i have to ask for any show of love that isn't a few moments of rushed physical affection, which men who haven't loved me have just as easily given, or say that he loves me, which at least one man has told me and not meant. so our relationship starts to feel superficial to me, one-sided. sometimes, no-sided.
or at least almost so: it makes me want to take back my side, take back the time i always make for him, take back all the things i do for him without being asked, take back the love that is making this painful, a dull ache that is liable to hit me with its full force if i'm too tired or vulnerable.
i do have some reason to cry, although i don't deny that i also have the choice not to cry. but to choose not to care about how things have been is the choice to take back some part of my love that is very real and meaningful. i'm afraid that if i do, nothing will be left.