Unraveling
So, before we begin...
Yesterday, I found (what is possibly) the cutest crochet hook, I have EVER seen. I immediately knew that I wanted it. And yet, I also knew that, with funding being what it is around here, I would keep, right on wanting it. Maybe one day, when things get a little better, I will splurge on it. Last night, it took quite a bit of restraint, not to order this in a size H, which is what I am using to make my mom's afghan.
Anyway, have a look. And tell me...Is this not the CUTEST crochet hook.
http://www.creationsjacqueline.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=5&products_id=155
This morning, I woke up, just after 6am. I climbed out of bed (still very aware, of what happened, during the course of yesterday), went to the kitchen, and started a pot of coffee. I gave the dogs their treats, then made my way to the TV cabinet, where I pulled out the Winter Jewels Afghan, and started working on it. The coffee pot beeped half-way through my first row. I got myself a cup, returned to the blue recliner, and continued. I finished that row, and worked another, and put the afghan away. I watched TV for a bit. (A sitcom rerun, which normally, I would have found rather funny, I am sure. Today, I just sat there, watching...)
We all remember, I am sure, a rather devastating event, that occurred yesterday...
My sweetie called my ideas, for the afghan CRAP! As I heard that word...spoken, with such a cruel tone (almost as if it was MEANT to really hurt), I sat on the blue recliner, working away, on the Cross Stitch & Picot. "If somebody gave me a blanket like that," my sweetie said, to push the knife in, a little deeper, "I would put it in a box, and tuck it away. And, I would never pull it out again."
I didn't know what to do. I sat there, trying my hardest not to cry. I tried to keep happy thoughts, and I worked the rows, for my mother's afghan. I tried to ignore the pain, that I felt...Like someone had driven an ICY-COLD knife, right through my heart. I could feel this type of throbbing, in my head. I started to sweat profusely, a nervous sweat. And, I couldn't help, but replay those words, over and over again, in my head.
We went to my physical therapy appointment. Really, I did NOT want to even get in the car. But, it was too late to cancel the appointment. So, I took a deep breath, climbed into the passenger seat, and we were off.
And, while it is just a feeling that I got, it was a very strong feeling. I could almost feel this vibe, that my 'sweetie' was giving off. A victorious vibe. A vibe that made everything that much worse.
I did not talk, on the way to my appointment.
After my appointment, we went to the Michael's shopping center. My 'sweetie' went into Lowe's, and I (by myself) went into Michael's, to buy my yarn.
We went to get food (I was starving). And, as we were in line, my 'sweetie' broke the silent ice, by talking about the neighbor. Even that conversation, however, turned INSTANTLY sour.
Somehow, we got to the whole thing, of how I just will not go out of my way, to associate with her, anymore. And, I was told that my actions, toward my neighbor, were 'disgusting.' (Yup...talk about a day of joy. Not!)
We finally made it home. I felt like complete hell. I hurt, in EVERY single way, that a person can hurt. Due to physical therapy, my legs were burning, and the muscles were cramping. (As I made my way, from the car to the house, I was sure that my legs were just going to give out. They didn't...I stayed upright. But, I was hurting.) And, I was emotionally wounded. The whole FRIGGIN day, I had been ragged on. I had been told that my creative ideas were crap, and that they were tacky. I had been told that I was disgusting, because, rather than put myself in an uncomfortable situation, I would just avoid my neighbor.
There was one more blow to come!
A few hours passed. I went online, and found that crochet hook, that I desperately want. I worked with my yarn (busying myself, with the Cross Stitch & Picot, the birthday blanket, and even finding time to work on the Winter Jewels, for a bit.) I went, to take my bath. I tried to calm myself, as I sat in the hot water. It's just been one of those days, Michael. Just relax...
After the bath, my 'sweetie' wanted to go to the neighbors. Now, it has already been established, how I feel about doing this. But, I figured what the hell. We made plans to go, and hang out, for a few minutes. Not too long, because I was already hungry. I still had to come home, and make dinner for myself.
So, we go over.
We are not even there for 15 minutes, and my 'sweetie' starts bad-mouthing certain members of my family. Just going on, and on, and on. Finally, I had enough, and we went home.
During the walk home, my 'sweetie' could not understand (one single bit), why I was mad.
"Well, that's just fine." I was told. "It isn't like we have that much in common, anyway." The conversation (more like my 'sweetie', talking AT me) continued. I was told that it would take a while, but in time, it would all be over.
I did not object.
The truth is, we are different. We have been, for a while. I can no longer deny that. I do not like my family being talked about. I do not like being made to feel, like working with yarn, is just a waste of time. I do NOT like having my ideas called 'crap'. And, I do not like being in a relationship, where I am called disgusting, because I am choosing to save myself, from hurtful words of a cynical neighbor. (And, I certainly do not like feeling like I am second, to my neighbor.)
We got home. The conversation continued, still. My 'sweetie' played that wonderful game of it is either ALL your fault, or ALL my fault. (Honestly, how do you resolve anything, with a person like this?)
The fight ended.
I made a few scrambled eggs, for dinner. I sat in the recliner, watching TV, and working on my mother's afghan. I felt empty...hurt, but at the same time, FINALLY free.
As for this morning...
I (as I have already said) began my day, by working a few rows on the Winter Jewels Afghan. I am really not sure, what I will do with this afghan, when it is finished. Should I keep it, now? I mean, it is BEAUTIFUL! And, as my sweetie and I are, well, most-likely no more, I am not sure if I should still stick to my original idea, of giving this, as a gift. I mean, will this afghan get called CRAP, as well?
I do know one thing...
Working on this afghan today, was quite strange.
I mean, I set out, making it as a gift. I was going to give it, to someone who I thought I had a relationship with. Now, that person has hurt me (3 times, in one day...what a record.) And now, I feel all these conflicting things, as I work this afghan. I feel numb, to everything, and yet free. I want to unravel it, almost. And yet, I am drawn, to finish it.
I wish I could say that I am saddened, over this. I mean, shouldn't a normal person feel sad, when a relationship, is coming to close?
I guess one could say, that the numbness I feel, is a form of sadness.
I don't know.
It has been one hell, of a week.
And, this morning, I know one thing. I am done, with trying. We really have nothing in common, anymore.
So, here I sit...Michael Leach. And now, The Yarn Project is the ONLY thing I have.
I know, I know...a rather depressing entry. I am sorry for that.
Hopefully, things will get better soon.
As for today...well, I do believe that I will use the the curing powers, of yarn.
Happy looming (and crocheting)...
Yesterday, I found (what is possibly) the cutest crochet hook, I have EVER seen. I immediately knew that I wanted it. And yet, I also knew that, with funding being what it is around here, I would keep, right on wanting it. Maybe one day, when things get a little better, I will splurge on it. Last night, it took quite a bit of restraint, not to order this in a size H, which is what I am using to make my mom's afghan.
Anyway, have a look. And tell me...Is this not the CUTEST crochet hook.
http://www.creationsjacqueline.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=5&products_id=155
This morning, I woke up, just after 6am. I climbed out of bed (still very aware, of what happened, during the course of yesterday), went to the kitchen, and started a pot of coffee. I gave the dogs their treats, then made my way to the TV cabinet, where I pulled out the Winter Jewels Afghan, and started working on it. The coffee pot beeped half-way through my first row. I got myself a cup, returned to the blue recliner, and continued. I finished that row, and worked another, and put the afghan away. I watched TV for a bit. (A sitcom rerun, which normally, I would have found rather funny, I am sure. Today, I just sat there, watching...)
We all remember, I am sure, a rather devastating event, that occurred yesterday...
My sweetie called my ideas, for the afghan CRAP! As I heard that word...spoken, with such a cruel tone (almost as if it was MEANT to really hurt), I sat on the blue recliner, working away, on the Cross Stitch & Picot. "If somebody gave me a blanket like that," my sweetie said, to push the knife in, a little deeper, "I would put it in a box, and tuck it away. And, I would never pull it out again."
I didn't know what to do. I sat there, trying my hardest not to cry. I tried to keep happy thoughts, and I worked the rows, for my mother's afghan. I tried to ignore the pain, that I felt...Like someone had driven an ICY-COLD knife, right through my heart. I could feel this type of throbbing, in my head. I started to sweat profusely, a nervous sweat. And, I couldn't help, but replay those words, over and over again, in my head.
We went to my physical therapy appointment. Really, I did NOT want to even get in the car. But, it was too late to cancel the appointment. So, I took a deep breath, climbed into the passenger seat, and we were off.
And, while it is just a feeling that I got, it was a very strong feeling. I could almost feel this vibe, that my 'sweetie' was giving off. A victorious vibe. A vibe that made everything that much worse.
I did not talk, on the way to my appointment.
After my appointment, we went to the Michael's shopping center. My 'sweetie' went into Lowe's, and I (by myself) went into Michael's, to buy my yarn.
We went to get food (I was starving). And, as we were in line, my 'sweetie' broke the silent ice, by talking about the neighbor. Even that conversation, however, turned INSTANTLY sour.
Somehow, we got to the whole thing, of how I just will not go out of my way, to associate with her, anymore. And, I was told that my actions, toward my neighbor, were 'disgusting.' (Yup...talk about a day of joy. Not!)
We finally made it home. I felt like complete hell. I hurt, in EVERY single way, that a person can hurt. Due to physical therapy, my legs were burning, and the muscles were cramping. (As I made my way, from the car to the house, I was sure that my legs were just going to give out. They didn't...I stayed upright. But, I was hurting.) And, I was emotionally wounded. The whole FRIGGIN day, I had been ragged on. I had been told that my creative ideas were crap, and that they were tacky. I had been told that I was disgusting, because, rather than put myself in an uncomfortable situation, I would just avoid my neighbor.
There was one more blow to come!
A few hours passed. I went online, and found that crochet hook, that I desperately want. I worked with my yarn (busying myself, with the Cross Stitch & Picot, the birthday blanket, and even finding time to work on the Winter Jewels, for a bit.) I went, to take my bath. I tried to calm myself, as I sat in the hot water. It's just been one of those days, Michael. Just relax...
After the bath, my 'sweetie' wanted to go to the neighbors. Now, it has already been established, how I feel about doing this. But, I figured what the hell. We made plans to go, and hang out, for a few minutes. Not too long, because I was already hungry. I still had to come home, and make dinner for myself.
So, we go over.
We are not even there for 15 minutes, and my 'sweetie' starts bad-mouthing certain members of my family. Just going on, and on, and on. Finally, I had enough, and we went home.
During the walk home, my 'sweetie' could not understand (one single bit), why I was mad.
"Well, that's just fine." I was told. "It isn't like we have that much in common, anyway." The conversation (more like my 'sweetie', talking AT me) continued. I was told that it would take a while, but in time, it would all be over.
I did not object.
The truth is, we are different. We have been, for a while. I can no longer deny that. I do not like my family being talked about. I do not like being made to feel, like working with yarn, is just a waste of time. I do NOT like having my ideas called 'crap'. And, I do not like being in a relationship, where I am called disgusting, because I am choosing to save myself, from hurtful words of a cynical neighbor. (And, I certainly do not like feeling like I am second, to my neighbor.)
We got home. The conversation continued, still. My 'sweetie' played that wonderful game of it is either ALL your fault, or ALL my fault. (Honestly, how do you resolve anything, with a person like this?)
The fight ended.
I made a few scrambled eggs, for dinner. I sat in the recliner, watching TV, and working on my mother's afghan. I felt empty...hurt, but at the same time, FINALLY free.
As for this morning...
I (as I have already said) began my day, by working a few rows on the Winter Jewels Afghan. I am really not sure, what I will do with this afghan, when it is finished. Should I keep it, now? I mean, it is BEAUTIFUL! And, as my sweetie and I are, well, most-likely no more, I am not sure if I should still stick to my original idea, of giving this, as a gift. I mean, will this afghan get called CRAP, as well?
I do know one thing...
Working on this afghan today, was quite strange.
I mean, I set out, making it as a gift. I was going to give it, to someone who I thought I had a relationship with. Now, that person has hurt me (3 times, in one day...what a record.) And now, I feel all these conflicting things, as I work this afghan. I feel numb, to everything, and yet free. I want to unravel it, almost. And yet, I am drawn, to finish it.
I wish I could say that I am saddened, over this. I mean, shouldn't a normal person feel sad, when a relationship, is coming to close?
I guess one could say, that the numbness I feel, is a form of sadness.
I don't know.
It has been one hell, of a week.
And, this morning, I know one thing. I am done, with trying. We really have nothing in common, anymore.
So, here I sit...Michael Leach. And now, The Yarn Project is the ONLY thing I have.
I know, I know...a rather depressing entry. I am sorry for that.
Hopefully, things will get better soon.
As for today...well, I do believe that I will use the the curing powers, of yarn.
Happy looming (and crocheting)...