complicating relating

there's more honesty, which is something. didn't exactly instill the relief i had expected. conversely, i'm more agitated, more concerned with the desertion qualms than before. "sounds like your dad's in your head," she sighed. not my dad, my life. years i need to transcend. the barrage was more than i could handle. it sent me into a spiral of tearful fears until i found myself utterly immobilized by the heavy future threat. i'm glad they talked to me. i just wish it hadn't been like that, two against one, stultifying.
she told me a story about a head injury today that made me think of his blackened face dangling from the tree. she told me how he fell, how his head sounded on the linoleum floor below and it made me think of his skull echoing against the pavement when he dropped from the tree. i remembered feeling frantic, grabbing his ankles and jerking them as hard as i could. all i could think was that he needed to get out of the tree. he needed to not die hanging limply before the other two. he was fine, or mostly, though it took awhile for him to completely find himself again. it doesn't sound as though this will be the case for her friend, who is currently comatose.
he asked me today if i was writing. "at an impasse." my generic response, which means nothing to me or anyone else. just my way of avoiding acknowledging that i really have an incredible amount to do and that i am mostly ignoring it.
i should call him. not because he'll motivate me, but because i wonder about him, how he's doing, if he's still en route to a degree, or if he's abandoned the pursuit altogether. he will understand the need for a fabricated obstacle. and maybe the commiseration will inspire me out of my slump, maybe recognizing glaringly in him what i'm denying in myself will be enough of a kick in the ass. i should call him. i miss being closer friends.
it's funny that i wrote about marriage. i used to never think about marriage. relationships of all flavors are fascinating me lately. maybe because i'm bristling at tastes of my friends', identifying interactions i definitely do not want. i do not want to be in a marriage that i find unfulfilling enough to make every man who walks through my door while my husband is away too enticing to avoid coquettishly toying with them. i do not want to be in a relationship in which there is a chronic power struggle like theirs, which i imagine marriage would only exacerbate. i do not want to be in a marriage with someone who can't meet my multi-dimensional cravings, with someone who sates me solely in bed.
i used to never have a vision of myself as a married woman. increasingly, the image seems less foreign, less aversive and this is a somewhat disconcerting awareness.
he seems happy with his marriage, even if he's frustrated by his child, even if his wife works late and long hours, is absent 90% of the time. just one more thing to admire about him. such optimism. i wish i had half.
she called today to inquire and wanted to say congratulations, but stopped short and asked me what she was supposed to say. she doesn't feel congratulations are in order because she doesn't think i should be on this path. she talked about her pregnancies, how deflated she felt after each birth, how hard it was for her to get back on her feet, to feel stabilized, full. she said she fell apart having her babies outside her body. she imagined the summer will suck for me. and she offered her support.
i am so lucky.
he told me to be more appreciative, less bitchy as we laughed over the egregious letter and he twittered with glee for having brought it over to show me. he told me i need to realize what it takes for a man to stick around through my nuttiness. he told me i needed to remember what a huge burden this would be for any partner.
but he said he liked my abnormality and cited my uterus as an example. i will be mindful of treading heavily on him. but i must also be mindful of those two small words, five letters, eight strokes.
she's angsty today, craving attention. i need to find a better way of relating. she is the center of my world. resentment at the core could only rot the rest.
he's angsty, too, though i don't know what inspired it. resumed consistent communication, reminiscing, something. i can't imagine. i can only eagerly await whatever he has to say and hope that he'll feel comfortable saying it, hope that he'll see that i'm not interested in awkwardness or hard feelings, that they have never been part of my plan....