State of play.
So.
On sunday Matt finally said via text that he had been manic depressive all week and wondering what the hell we were doing with our lives. I asked why he couldn't have told me these simple facts earlier and asked if there was anything I could do. He ignored the first bit and to the second said 'do what makes you happy'. This set me into a rage of (for a corvid at least) epic proportions and I replied that right now, being able to hit him was the only thing likely to give me any joy.
Dear boy, you do not ignore me and make me miserable all week and then get to say 'be happy' as if your actions have no effect upon my mental state. Fuck that and bollocks to you for being such an idiot and then trying to play the martyr.
I went to ZG late, Matt left after Garou. I came home after Cam to find the flat empty. After some inquiry I discovered Matt was in London somewhere. I surmised he'd come home only when he was sure I was asleep (making it easier for him to ignore me) and suggested instead he come home before I sleep so there could be some kind of conversation before all of this shit dragged into Week 2.
Matt returned, assumed I was asleep and set himself up with books, headphones and blankets in the other room. I got very irate again. Told him to come to bed. He said he was reading. I sent him a text - since text seemed to be the only reliable form of communication we currently have - telling him I was leaving in the morning. This provoked no response but some time later he did come (silently) to bed.
There was still no response the next morning so I tidied and did some washing, packed my bag and enquired of Rain, Blade and Maz if I might infringe upon their hospitalities. I also sent an email to Matt enquiring what he wanted and informing him I was not happy or desirous to be leaving. By lunch time I was beginning to feel that any sort of response would be unlikely and that I would have to interpret silence as 'go on then'. I made an LJ post to this effect.
At 2pm Matt finally replied (which I note with bleak amusement leaves about twelve hours between 'I'm leaving' and 'I'd rather you didn't' - making it something of a surprise I wasn't halfway to Manchester.)
When he returned from work in the evening there was some slightly strained conversation with me attempting to be helpful and practical and Matt saying 'I don't know' a lot. Then he sat in a corner and was so miserable he cried. When I moved things out of the way to sit next to him, he bolted. Apparently I am not yet permitted to touch him.
The rest of the evening he spent plugged into his computer, talking to people online, watching films and net surfing inbetween swapping many texts with John. It would appear that whilst talking to me is like pulling teeth, he can converse with others.
I mention all of this because although in theory things are better (ie, I'm not having to leave) things are also just as bad. Matt is still in antarctica and keeps the utmost amount of mental, physical and psychological distance between us that the flat will allow. It's actually rather nasty when your lover waits for as long as possible in the hope you will sleep before him and when he finally comes to bed he is still half clothed as if for protection and keeps to the furthest corner of the mattress possible. I'm starting to wonder if I'm repulsive or contagious because it seems it must be one or the other.
All of this makes me angry and unhappy by turns, and I loathe the idea of living through another week of it.
On sunday Matt finally said via text that he had been manic depressive all week and wondering what the hell we were doing with our lives. I asked why he couldn't have told me these simple facts earlier and asked if there was anything I could do. He ignored the first bit and to the second said 'do what makes you happy'. This set me into a rage of (for a corvid at least) epic proportions and I replied that right now, being able to hit him was the only thing likely to give me any joy.
Dear boy, you do not ignore me and make me miserable all week and then get to say 'be happy' as if your actions have no effect upon my mental state. Fuck that and bollocks to you for being such an idiot and then trying to play the martyr.
I went to ZG late, Matt left after Garou. I came home after Cam to find the flat empty. After some inquiry I discovered Matt was in London somewhere. I surmised he'd come home only when he was sure I was asleep (making it easier for him to ignore me) and suggested instead he come home before I sleep so there could be some kind of conversation before all of this shit dragged into Week 2.
Matt returned, assumed I was asleep and set himself up with books, headphones and blankets in the other room. I got very irate again. Told him to come to bed. He said he was reading. I sent him a text - since text seemed to be the only reliable form of communication we currently have - telling him I was leaving in the morning. This provoked no response but some time later he did come (silently) to bed.
There was still no response the next morning so I tidied and did some washing, packed my bag and enquired of Rain, Blade and Maz if I might infringe upon their hospitalities. I also sent an email to Matt enquiring what he wanted and informing him I was not happy or desirous to be leaving. By lunch time I was beginning to feel that any sort of response would be unlikely and that I would have to interpret silence as 'go on then'. I made an LJ post to this effect.
At 2pm Matt finally replied (which I note with bleak amusement leaves about twelve hours between 'I'm leaving' and 'I'd rather you didn't' - making it something of a surprise I wasn't halfway to Manchester.)
When he returned from work in the evening there was some slightly strained conversation with me attempting to be helpful and practical and Matt saying 'I don't know' a lot. Then he sat in a corner and was so miserable he cried. When I moved things out of the way to sit next to him, he bolted. Apparently I am not yet permitted to touch him.
The rest of the evening he spent plugged into his computer, talking to people online, watching films and net surfing inbetween swapping many texts with John. It would appear that whilst talking to me is like pulling teeth, he can converse with others.
I mention all of this because although in theory things are better (ie, I'm not having to leave) things are also just as bad. Matt is still in antarctica and keeps the utmost amount of mental, physical and psychological distance between us that the flat will allow. It's actually rather nasty when your lover waits for as long as possible in the hope you will sleep before him and when he finally comes to bed he is still half clothed as if for protection and keeps to the furthest corner of the mattress possible. I'm starting to wonder if I'm repulsive or contagious because it seems it must be one or the other.
All of this makes me angry and unhappy by turns, and I loathe the idea of living through another week of it.