June 29, 2015
You won't admit you love me so how am I ever to know
Holy fuck, Brian scared the shit out of me last night. We had a really good day. We drove out to Williamsburg to check out my parents' new house, which resulted in staying well after dinner visiting with them. Then we went home and finished watching season 3 of OITNB (which, I'm not too keen on at the moment). It really was a fantastically good day. We had stopped in Newport News for lunch and showed him my favorite placed. Then we went on a shopping errand for my dad and were just joking around all day. My family talked to him a little more this time, and then he got to experience a good family argument and didn't get freaked out about it. I was having good feelings about him and just about everything in general I suppose. So when we were snuggling in bed last night, I decided to ask Brian how he felt about the progression of our relationship. I know at one point, he had said something along the lines of how he felt we were growing closer and that he liked the pace at which we were moving. So I asked him if he still felt like we were getting closer to one another.
And he hesitated. I don't mean a little hesitation to gather his words, I mean a big hesitation to gather some serious thought. My heart sank. Then he said something like he felt like we were close, but he didn't know how close and I heard but we aren't getting any closer. More heart sinking. I shrunk back away from him to my side of the bed and tried as quietly as possible not to have a panic attack. So I asked him if he wanted me to leave and he told me I didn't have to go and I swear to you my stomach suddenly felt so ill I wondered if I would be sick. It wouldn't be the first time I had to throw up after a break up. I responded, asking what was the point of being there. I wasn't really sure what he was trying to tell me. He was quiet. I couldn't see him because I was facing the wall and honestly didn't think I could look at him. He had gone from being my boyfriend, lover, and confidant to the biggest con artist I'd ever met. An hour ago he couldn't sit on the couch without cuddling me, now suddenly he didn't think we were growing any closer. And he was just so quiet. He wasn't saying anything and there I was freaking out under the covers.
So I got up. I had to get out of that bed with him, out of that room. I paced the living room. I paced the bathroom. I paced the kitchen before finally snugging myself in the little place between the fridge and his pan rack. My thoughts were wild. My blood was on fire. My pulse was pounding. I couldn't tell you what was going on. One minute I was standing against the wall, the next I was on the floor crying. It took him awhile to find me. I don't think he realized I was tucked next to the fridge. I'd bet money he thought I left, but my little sniffles gave me away. He asked if I was okay. I told him I was fine. He told me clearly I wasn't, so I got up, collected myself and returned to the bedroom where I could sniffle some more under the privacy of the quilt. He followed me, but still said nothing. So I had my little cry, as softly as possible, then got out of bed so I could lean against the wall and talk to him. I felt exposed, half naked with him staring at me so I put on my pants. It took me awhile to open my mouth. I kept trying to say something, but my whole body was shaking. I remember thinking how I kiss him goodbye every morning before I go to work and how that wouldn't be happening tomorrow. I remember watching his face, an his brows were knitted together as he stole glaces at me here and there then stared off into space. Eventually, I gathered my courage and sat down on the bed across from him and asked him what I was doing there, what he was saying? Then he told me he didn't know how to explain it. Remember that heart sinking from earlier? Well, now I was feeling it tenfold. He didn't say anything else. You could see the struggle on his face. It didn't seem as if talking was going to do us any good so I just came out with it and asked him if he was breaking up with me. I wish you could have seen his face because he seemed completely taken back by that question. He shook his head and told me no, he was not breaking up with me.
I was so relieved, the most pitiful noise I've ever made came out of my mouth and I started balling my eyes out. Then he started crying and I'm pretty sure I hit him with my pillow for making me ride that emotional roller coaster. Turns out when I asked him if he thought we were getting closer, he thought I was looking for some kind of love confession and he was too nervous to ask me to clarify what I meant by it. So I told him that was crazy, I was just following up on his own words from a few weeks ago because we don't really talk about our relationship and I wanted to make sure we were on the same page. He's so hard to read and I talk about and express my feelings so much more readily than he does. He just doesn't like talking about his feelings. But it was a really cute conversation. We were both crying and utterly relieved that the whole thing had been a miscommunication. Seriously, I think it was another 30 minutes before my eyes dried. But I think the whole ordeal was a good thing. I haven't been quite sure of my own feelings and when I felt like he was breaking up with me, it made me realize how much I really do care and how much I wanted to be in that relationship with him. The love isn't quite there yet, but it will be, and I had and have every intention of this working out for the long haul. So I'm very happy that I felt threatened, and that we were able to resolve things...though, I wish he had opened up sooner and talked to me instead of saying stoic things and then remaining quiet. Also, we clarified that I would never force/trick him into telling me he loved me, but I needed to know from time to time how he was feeling because TJ had been checked out for so long before I realized something was amiss, and that he would never break up with me in our bed together because that's how his ex broke up with him so he went to bed with a horrible feeling in his stomach and woke up feeling that horrible feeling. So that's that.
At this point, it was 3am and we were both wired. So we decided to spend our time as productively as possible under the covers. I'm quite satisfied.
scullerymaid at 9:57 a.m.