Dear... Tense Danny
It's been a little over 5 months since you've been living with us. That means we've been together for around 7. From the beginning it felt different. I told you this, you reciprocated the feeling and we started the planning, just like that.
It was so easy, so easy to be with you. You showed effort, you showed affection, it was as if you opened up a whole new world to me. I ate it up. I dove in, I was scared shitless and you were too but we did it anyway. We gave in. Every day I wanted to be with you. I couldn't wait to spend twenty minutes with you and it felt like an eternity between days.
At first you couldn't bare to not sleep next to me. You'd show up in the middle of the night just because.
I miss that, I miss that feeling of feeling like you needed me, like I mattered to you at the end of the day.
It doesn't feel like that anymore.
These days the bar is what you need at the end of the day, not me.
Booze has been the end, from the beginning. I told you this. I told you I didn't want another addict. I told you I had a hard time with it, myself. But not once has it felt like that mattered, like losing me would be a negative.
You even said I didn't deserve the way you've been treating me, yet when I tell you I don't like it, you get mad. I can't even tell you that you upset me because it ruins your free time.
Instead of being salvation or a break from your hectic day, I'm just additional stress now, because you're being short and tense.
With all this going on, with the distance and emotional separation on your part. I still miss you. I still want to hold you, kiss your face and just crawl into you.
Maybe it'll pass and all that's needed is some time away from normal daily living. Maybe we just aren't ready to go through those kinds of issues. Maybe you need to be honest with yourself and take some responsibility. Own up to the fact that you are stressed, being unreasonable and maybe not being all that kind to those around you.
Some days I feel like a fool. Mostly because I am taking a lot of the responsibility for both of us. Washing the clothes, ironing shirts, washing dishes, making food, getting you beer and anything else you've asked me for. I like to think I'm reliable, for you, as a partner. Though I couldn't say the same for you. I don't remember the last time you were there for me when I needed you.
Has that been a thing you'd consider? I wonder.
Regardless, I'm still sitting here, concerned. Wondering what I could do to make you feel better. The thought of you being stressed, angry, tired, with too much weight on those shoulders... hurts me. I want to take it away. I don't want you to experience that. I especially don't want you to experience that for an extended time. It's been weeks now. That you've been in this "f**k everything, f**k today, f**k people" mood. I can't take it anymore.
I can't take seeing you like this. I can't take the treatment you deal out while you're like this. I can't take the distance that's growing between us due to it. I just can't take it.
I miss you Danny. I miss you a f**king whole lot. I just want you to come home. I want you to come back to me. Angry or not, I told you I'm on your side. I'm rooting for you. I want you to be happy. I want to be able to have the chance to make you smile. I want to cook with you in the kitchen and curl up on the couch watching horrible go nowhere movies. I want to keep being a family with you. I don't know where this is going and I don't know what the future holds but I want to do it with you.
I'd like to feel like I mattered to you again, like you'd make sure to have time for me. I think that's what I want most of all from you right now. To feel like all of this is reciprocated. That you'd choose me, like I choose you. With respect, love and understanding.
Maybe you will, maybe you won't. Maybe this won't get better after all and it's just the beginning of the end. Or maybe it's even the end. Or even perhaps, maybe it never started at all. Or maybe it'll just be ok and we can move on from this, better and stronger together. I hope that's the case. Only time will tell. But my armor is wearing thin and I'm not sure how much more of this heartache I can endure. I keep telling myself that all of this is temporary, that it will get better, that it's only a matter of time and circumstances. I have some hope. I'll keep hanging on but not until I'm fully depleted.
I packed up your things this morning at 3. I folded your boxers, rolled up your socks and tucked them neatly into a box. I grabbed your work shirts and flannels next. Last was your electronics. I'll be dropping them off in a few hours. You're already at work or nearly there. I've already told you that I can't be on this end of your stress and I feel like you didn't understand my reasoning for this action. That's ok. I hope you won't be too mad. That you can get through the rest of the week normally. I hope I'll see you soon and it's been enough time for you to cool off.
Until the waves have parted and the sea isn't red anymore.