I realized yesterday just how materialisticI've become. When I say this, I mean, I would honestly, beyond all reason, rather buy a $2500 computer and just barely have enough money to buy food for the rest of the month, living off of once-a-day meals instead of the physician approved three-meals-a-day, than have to do anything on a computer that freezes, or crashes, or runs incredibly slow. I say $2500 computer, not as an example, but because that was the price of the computer that Derek bought, and yesterday, I was playing on our old laptop, I can tell ya, big difference.
I almost thought I'd break the damn thing.
Honestly, it makes me a little sad, because I can remember my youth, and how I would've prefered being outside, than cooping myself up inside playing video games or looking at stuff on YouTube. I only even played video games when it was too rainy for the outdoors, or there was three feet of snow on the ground that I had just come in from and was too cold to do anything else. I've mellowed out a lot over the years, and now I positively loathe cold weather and hate the snow. I just find myself sometimes wishing I had retained some of the simplicity of my youth. My need to always have something to do, some game to play, some movie to watch, it makes me jealous of the friends I have that don't need anything, that are okay hopping trains, back packing across the country, camping wherever they're comfortable. I want to do that. I want to be able to cut all ties to this materialistic comforts that I surround myself with and just relax. I can't. I'm too weak, and I hate the bugs that reside in the wilderness.
Derek had two days off in a row, Friday and Saturday. Neither of them went very well. I wanted it to be like the last time he had two days off, where we sat down, enjoyed a nice dinner, enjoyed each others company, and just relaxed together. I suppose trying to work up to equal the whole sensation of that last time, I probably ruined it for myself. I spent most of the time either playing Fable 2 or watching him play Silent Hill: Homecoming, reading from a guide to make sure he didn't miss anything. When he made a mistake, he got upset. Not a normal, "well crap, that sucks." upset. He punched the TV and made his knuckles bleed, and then told me to stop acting like a child when I tried to get him into the bathroom to clean them up. ( hypocrite ) We argued about the same old things we always argue about, about my insecurities, and how three years doesn't even seem like a lot to me now that my friend's relationship of seven years just ended. And he told me to just think about it, to think about this insecurity the next time it came up, to think about what I'm going to say before I go off on another of my incredibly childish and all too over-dramatically ridiculous "YOU HATE ME!" tangents, not even throwing in his face his frequently surfacing anger. I know he's been working on it. The only reason I dislike his anger is because the yelling scares me, the punching of pillows scares me, the breaking of lamps and fans scares me. I know I'd never be the one in his war-path, I'm smart enough to hang back until he finishes his rant about how much he hates his life and calms down enough so that I can sit by him and offer him whatever comfort he gets from me being there for him, I know this, just as I know he loves me, but the insecurities are always there, they always have been, no amount of therapy and no amount of reassurance has been able to really get through and make them go away.
I always end up wishing I was different, that I could just be a better person for him, that I could be stronger for him. That's just wishful thinking. I've been trying to strengthen myself for two years, and I've gotten nowhere.
Every problem that we end up having in our relationship, when I sit down and think them through, I know will always come back to me, some problem that I've had or caused.
We're both just two big ol' bags of crazy.
Two crazies don't give any sort of balance.
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