04 January 2003

It's so unfair. But isn't it always? Isn't someone always losing?

I try so hard. Too hard, to moments of desperation, of obsession, of perfection...to be the best person I can be. I genuinely want to be "good." I want to do right. I want people to respect me, and to appreciate my work, and you never really can do it all. And it hurts me when I can't. When I'm not giving you the "best" service at my restaurant, I sincerely hurt and worry inside about it. I'll worry about it when I can't do anything about it, even after you have left, because I'll worry about how that reflects on me, on so many layers.

But this isn't about work or a job, it's about...

I don't know.

I guess it is about my inability to be...perfect. And I know....that I'm not; and I never will be. And I don't even really want to be, in fact, I think I'm rather lazy at times and if I truly were driven to be "perfect" surely I would produce and do more in my life, but I don't, and I'm usually okay with that.

There are a few things that concern me about Jeff and I, but I guess, I'm okay with that too, because they seem overall insignificant, and I also realize that we are not perfect as individuals, nor is anyone really "perfect" as a team. I feel at times, though, that we are just near perfection, because we seem so in sync.

But I know that I try...too hard to please him. I know in general I'm trying to make everyone happy, which often puts me in conflicting situations in which I'm not sure who to please or how to react and I probably end up displeasing both in some way and only feeling miserable about it, but helpless to do anything about it.

This isn't about that. I'm not sure what i'm trying to say. Well, yes I do.

Jeff treats me really well. And usually when I hear about other relationships, inside I'm gloating about how my boyfriend treats me. But there are times when....

He'll be doing something that I don't like, and when I tell him to stop or that I don't like it, it's like that becomes a challenge, something to poke fun at with. And it's almost always something really dumb and small--I can't even think of anything where it had been important or of major concern, but either way, it's a situation where he was doing something that I didn't like and I've always been annoyed that he wouldn't stop because it was obvious I didn't like it. (Whew, queen of run on's...).

Like tonight, we were watching the Fiesta Bowl and he was all stressed out, and he kept on pinching me. And some of the pinches really hurt! And I kept telling him to stop, but he kept doing it, and had we not been at someone else's house, I probably would have gotten pretty pissy about it, because it was non-stop all fourth quarter and through over time. Well, actually in overtime, he kept side grabbing me, and putting the dog's droolly (is that a word?) play things all over me (including my face!). Or he kept putting his cold glass on me, or his cold hands, and I was to that point where I really wanted to get away from him.

I wanted to leave, or sit somewhere else, or slap him (not that I would ;) or something, but I mean I was going out of my mind, and he didn't care that I was *really* not liking it. It was just a joke to him, and I know they were all dumb little things, so maybe he really didn't know how pissed I was kind of getting, but still, I mean okay you did it a few times, now stop fucking with me!

THEN, on the ride home he had a bottle of liquor in his lap (which had been opened), which is obviously illegal, and he kept flashing it out the windows and pretending to drink it, then putting it in my face, like I was drinking it. I continued to tell him to stop (which he didn't), and I kept swatting at the bottle for him to put it down, but he kept laughing about it, until finally I said in a pouty voice that he had "no respect for me"--which he didn't seem to care for. He just mocked me and said "oooh, aglaia is upset." Then again...he did stop doing it.

We didn't say anything from that point on. When I got to my place, as soon as I turned off my car he jumps out and starts walking to his place. I chase after him to see what's up, because I know something is.

He just says, that he's not sleeping with me tonight and that nothing is wrong. Honestly, if he doesn't want to sleep at my house, that's fine, but I know when he's pissy, and seeing that we have probably slept in the same bed for the last 1.5 years or so (unless if it couldn't be helped ;)--obviously something is wrong.

So I run over and get in front of his door to his place, and tell him that I know something is wrong, and I wish that he cared that it was hurting me. And I don't know how guys internalize things, but I knew that I would go home and cry myself to sleep so I was getting a bad deal, worrying myself about it. And usually I'm not so honest, but this time I told him that it was unfair, that the moment *I* didn't like something, that *I* didn't play along with, and showed any anger, *HE* got mad at *ME* for being unhappy, and I was left crying for saying anything at all.

And it's fucking dumb. Anytime I don't play along and I actually show that I'm upset with him, he gets mad at me (but never wants to talk about it), and I end up feeling bad about it....of course, that is, until *I* apologize (for what, who knows, but that's always how it is) and all is well again. That's shit.

I'd like to think that I made him feel guilty, but what's the difference if I'm the one who has to feel bad about it? It probably never will get discussed, and either we'll pretend it never happened tomorrow or I'll be calling him tonight before I go to bed crying for him to come over.

And pathetically, it'll probably be the latter.

Grr. I don't get to say this too often, but sometimes...guys suck! Lol...and GO BUCKS!!!! (WHOO HOO!!)

Two years ago I was dreaming.