Life, life, life...
Milestones come and go, and hit me like a ton of bricks every time.
Sunday was Jason and my one year anniversary. He brought me flowers, we went to dinner, and then we had our first fight. Ever.
You know, because trust me to fuck up a great day, if it can be done.
We got over it, it was just things we both needed to work on.
Monday night, my Dad called. Now, I hadn't called him in about a week and a half, because I felt guilty that I got my first speeding ticket and am too nervous to tell him and, even if I'd been entirely sanguine about a conversation, I've been too busy to breathe. The conversation went something like this:
"Hey, Dad! How've you been?"
"Well, last week I was in the emergency room from 6am until 10pm. They thought I had a mild heart attack, but now they don't know what it is."
".......oh my god! Are you okay? I mean, what are they doing??"
"Oh, whatever. You know, I think you need to come down here in the next few weeks so that we can talk. I think I'm just going to sell this goddamn place and move away. I mean, f#ck it - nobody ever comes, and it's killing me. Why not?"
"Oh....god...well, you should come over here. If you're lonely live over with me."
"No. Absolutely not. I'm just going to go somewhere - anyway, I've got to go."
*click*
Jaw dropping. My father can sometimes act like an immature two year old when his feelings get hurt but Jesus Christ! Aren't I the one who helped him through cancer, who held him during the treatments when his piss was toxic and he cried himself to sleep? Wasn't I there through all of that, and never dumping my problems on him??
For Christs' sake, he could have _called_! I'd have been there in a heartbeat and he knows that! He's just so stupidstubbornselfish that he can't ever, ever do the asking - I _always_ have to come to him and drag things out of him.
I mean, dammit, I'm buying a house!! There are things every day that make me want to rip my hair out and I'm essentially doing this by myself. I haven't had a spare minute _TO_ call him, even if I wanted to. There is always some sort of crisis between my car breaking, Jason's car breaking, something happening with the SIX (yes, counting Jason I now take care of SIX guys in a two bedroom townhouse!!!) guys that are essentially my children - the phone line works _both_ ways. I had no idea he was hurt.
I just wish he had called.
Sunday was Jason and my one year anniversary. He brought me flowers, we went to dinner, and then we had our first fight. Ever.
You know, because trust me to fuck up a great day, if it can be done.
We got over it, it was just things we both needed to work on.
Monday night, my Dad called. Now, I hadn't called him in about a week and a half, because I felt guilty that I got my first speeding ticket and am too nervous to tell him and, even if I'd been entirely sanguine about a conversation, I've been too busy to breathe. The conversation went something like this:
"Hey, Dad! How've you been?"
"Well, last week I was in the emergency room from 6am until 10pm. They thought I had a mild heart attack, but now they don't know what it is."
".......oh my god! Are you okay? I mean, what are they doing??"
"Oh, whatever. You know, I think you need to come down here in the next few weeks so that we can talk. I think I'm just going to sell this goddamn place and move away. I mean, f#ck it - nobody ever comes, and it's killing me. Why not?"
"Oh....god...well, you should come over here. If you're lonely live over with me."
"No. Absolutely not. I'm just going to go somewhere - anyway, I've got to go."
*click*
Jaw dropping. My father can sometimes act like an immature two year old when his feelings get hurt but Jesus Christ! Aren't I the one who helped him through cancer, who held him during the treatments when his piss was toxic and he cried himself to sleep? Wasn't I there through all of that, and never dumping my problems on him??
For Christs' sake, he could have _called_! I'd have been there in a heartbeat and he knows that! He's just so stupidstubbornselfish that he can't ever, ever do the asking - I _always_ have to come to him and drag things out of him.
I mean, dammit, I'm buying a house!! There are things every day that make me want to rip my hair out and I'm essentially doing this by myself. I haven't had a spare minute _TO_ call him, even if I wanted to. There is always some sort of crisis between my car breaking, Jason's car breaking, something happening with the SIX (yes, counting Jason I now take care of SIX guys in a two bedroom townhouse!!!) guys that are essentially my children - the phone line works _both_ ways. I had no idea he was hurt.
I just wish he had called.