I don't really know what else to do at this point but write on Livejournal. I've actually kept myself from crying because they'd be tears of rage and those never solve a thing. Neither do the other tears. But at least those feel good instead of frustrating. Why are you so childish sometimes? I love a great many things you do. They make me feel happy and loved and like you and I CAN have a future together. But when things like today happen, I feel like I'm choking. Because imagining the rest of my life spent with a person who can't coherently address points in an argument, who avoids certain things according to convenience, who is snarky and even tries to be manipulative when I'm just trying to help solve a problem, and who can't just get over his pride and talk on the phone for ten minutes scares the shit out of me. When I think about it, the reason fights like these are so scary is because they remind me that to be with you, I have to let you do things that aren't right. Because expecting you to just drop everything--not every time, but maybe once in a while-- and say, "yeah, you know what, you and I fight through text all the time. I'll call you, it's not a big deal" is crazy. You can't make an effort for me unless it also benefits you. That's what's eerie about this. When you're nice, you're really nice and say pretty beautiful things to me. But I get this sinking feeling that that niceness is false. Because if it were real, it'd transcend the times when we're okay and also come in when we're not okay. Not saying nice things when we're fighting, obviously, but being considerate and caring enough overall to not let your pride make things harder, to consider my points of view, and to trade your one-sided view of things for one that involves my thoughts and opinions. I'm a very patient and tolerant person and being with you requires that those traits come out even more often. I along with other people know how difficult you are. So in a sense, I knew what I was getting. But when you offer apologies when you do things wrong, you promise certain things that in the end never happen. In this case, I can still remember the last time you told me you'd make an effort to talk to me on the phone next time we argued instead of texting. And now where did that go? Is it wrong to feel as though I need to draw up a contract every time you promise something, because there's no guarantee otherwise that you're telling the truth? And when does it stop? When do you learn to treat me the right way? And most importantly, why is it that you are only good to me when you and I aren't fighting? Do you stop caring about me or respecting me when we fight? I don't treat you differently; yes, I'm upset at you, but I'm not a child. Why does your protocol change?
Lastly, can we even be together at all if we're having a fight because you refuse to talk on the phone, even when I offered to do my best to make that phone conversation brief, calm, and logical-- not to mention whenever you can? Part of me is really starting to realize that dealing with your problems is too much burden for me.
Of course I couldn't send you all of this, because your response would be about 1/18th of what I wrote, it wouldn't address anything, and it'd make me even more upset. This makes me so sad, because I do love you, but it has become obvious that your enormous pride is bigger than the love of anyone in the world. And to know that this pride is more important than trying the person you love's suggestions, even if just to see that it might work; to know your pride is bigger than your sense of right and wrong, and bigger than your desire to let me have a chance, is the most destructive truth I can think of.