Sunday, March 16, 2008


I did something rather strange and certainly not exactly characteristic of my usual self yesterday.

It started when Wulfy and I rolled out of bed in the morning. He went back to his room to take a shower, I hung around mine checking email and stuff, waiting for him to come pick me up because we were supposed to eat breakfast at IHOP (we love us some IHOP. Cheese blintzes, mmmm). But he had a wedding to go to in about an hour, and an errand to run before then, so when I went out and met him he ended up circling campus and dropping me right back off because exactly why am I running this dumb errand with you instead of going back to bed when we don't have time to go to breakfast which is what we were supposed to do and I reminded you about ten times over last night and this morning and we've been wanting to go out for breakfast for about a week so how the hell did you forget?

So I stayed pretty pissed at him until about four in the afternoon, when he returned, and we waited until about five to finally go eat our IHOP because we might as well make it supper since you got back so damn late.

So I simmered and he kicked himself for about an hour, at which point I decided to try and be nice (which I actually rarely am, I am sullen and have a tendency to half-unconsciously, half-intentionally make him pay when he pisses me off, which he only usually does slightly anyway. I'm hard to live with.) and hopped up on the bed with him to tickle him and cheer him up and get him to stop looking pitiful and take me to IHOP.

I say, "Oh look at the poor pitiful Wulfy oooscha booscha wooscha wooooo *tickletickletickle* Oh come on cheer up."

He says, "But I hurt you."

I say "You're a silly bean. Do you want to take anyone else to IHOP with us?"

He says "I don't know, what do you want to do."

I say "You decide."

He says "But you're more important than me."

I say "Oh Wulfy, you know that's not--"

Wulfy, at this point, snaps because I've been a brat all day, and says very harshly some unpleasant and unpleasantly true things about the way I treat him and threatens to leave me.

I say "If that's how you feel, just leave."

He gets his big oh-shit-I-shouldn't-have-said-that-now-she's-gonna-hate-me eyes and says "I didn't mean it!" while attempting to hug on to me so I won't get up and make him leave.

I make him let go.

I sit and seethe for a while.

Then, without saying where I'm going, I put on a hoodzip and put my room keys in my pocket and leave.

It was pouring rain. I walked around campus for what I'm guessing was an hour or more, cellphone-less, considering a lot of things. I've been inexplicably unhappy lately, with myself, with school, with the job I have at home, with Wulfy, with what the hell do I really want to do with my life, with what the hell am I doing with my life now, with my suite-mates who are Loud Talkers, with my brother who is an asshole and my mom who is a little bit nuts and my dad who is not exactly the most sympathetic person in the world and the portion of my friends who never talk to me and the one girl who slandered me and with myself for not calling her on it and with my campus ministry for being politicky and obnoxious and my campus minister for having a large and thorny stick up his conservative-in-about-every-way-you-can-think-of-except-not-hating-
Harry-Potter ass and myself again for not being good enough for my almost annoyingly sweet and considerate boyfriend and sometimes wanting to break up with him for no good reason and for flirting too much with a cute coworker and just GAH WHAT THE FUCK TIME FOR A MELTDOWN.

So by this point I am fucking soaked and tired and my jeans are getting heavy because they're so wet and I'm wearing an old pair of Keds that are now squishy and my socks are wet so I've got two intense blisters on my Achilles tendons and ohmigod how long have I been gone what will Wulfy think I bet he'll hate me for making him worry I'm so mean to him god I am a horrible girlfriend and I just got mad at him over IHOP for god's sake wtf am I doing.

So I go back, and find my cell phone, which he has called three times and left a desperate choked-up message begging me to call him and tell me where I am because he's really worried and DAMN, I do not deserve to be with someone so wonderful but I'll be fucked if I let him go. So I call him and he's outside looking for me (oddly enough, he's where I was, but having checked other likely places first he's about an hour too late to find me there) so we figure out where we both are and meet halfish way (he runs, I limp in my squishy shoes so I meet him more like a quarter-way) and we have a cheesy-romance-movie crying hug in the rain, then go back to my room and cry some more and talk everything out and woooooo catharsis.

And THEN, we go to fucking IHOP.

Wow, the drama. The romance. The histrionics.

So I feel much much better now, though I'm thinking about forcefully dragging myself to therapy since as long as I'm a student here I get like ten free counseling sessions a semester. Well, sort of free, since it comes with tuition and all. I've got a big fat family history of depression and have had an episode or two before of just feeling like shit for weeks, so I feel like I need to be doing something to at least monitor that and try and check it before I end up being, well, my mom, who is only just getting some help now that she's going crazier now that she's older.

So yeah. The whole meltdown thing is in general not me but this time it worked out, even though I feel just the tiniest bit stupid about making this big scene. I was never really nuts as a teenager so perhaps I'm still getting the adolescent crazies out of my system. But for now, the air has been cleared and I'm feeling pretty groovy.

Hey Wulfy! I love youuuuuuuuu!

[Edit] After reading over the first bit, I seem to have made the Wulf look worse than he was with the snappage. This is something he does occasionally, usually as a weird injoke thing, but also occasionally because I really do drive him nuts sometimes. The criticisms were real, the threat to leave was not. It was also stingingly accurate, namely that I do often treat him as if I am more important than he is, but I was upset about it because I already had too much going on in my head. We have also lately not really talked about all this shit enough, and even the Wulf has his breaking point.

My point? He really isn't an asshole, even if the outburst seemed harsh.

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