regime change

last night, he made me laugh until i cried. almost all our boys do that...it's a charm, something i don't appreciate until the tears are hotly rolling down my cheeks, this time splashing onto the shelf of my bulging belly.
i desperately needed to laugh and laugh and laugh...i just wish its warmth were not so fleeting.
i am ready to be done. i told her today that i'm pining for a specific pair of my old jeans...which, once i fit back into them, will not leave my body for an entire year. i will not comb my hair. i will not wear sensible, professional clothing. i will not answer to anyone. she said she thinks i just need some time that doesn't involve my giving anything to anyone. she said she thinks that this 'gift' has drained my generosity...that i will hold onto it as a great gift for the rest of my life, but that for the next year i have to focus inward, that it has to be about me. i wish i could afford utter selfishness...the same i envied yesterday in him. even if it's not immediately up for grabs, i am ready to retrieve my life and redirect my path. this past year has been so fucking stagnant. stagnant like we are stagnant right now. we haven't done anything specifically us since april third. i told him i want to be locked in a room with him for two solid days, which was only slightly a whopping lie...not like this i don't...not swollen and awkward and deteriorating...i want to be locked in a room with him when i'm back in a phase in which he doesn't have to shut his eyes so much, he doesn't have to look past me from beneath me. a phase i'm aching to have return.
our marathons that he used to say he loved are longlost. our spontaneity is mostly lost. our nerves fray at each other. we need more sleep, more dedicated time.
they've been married now almost a year and he professed his undying love for her again to me before telling me goodbye today. they've made it through the year and the things he says have been the hardest are the little things like the shower curtain and the dishes. super soulmates, lousy roommates. i'm a bad roommate to anyone right now. pushing the gear shift into park and screeching to a dusty stop on the shoulder of the road, i turned and looked right at her small, porcelaine face as i shattered it with my words. i throw daggers even after i've promised to disarm. worse than saddam, the pain that i inflict as i undermine my promises crushes her. girl, interrupted someday, maybe, hating me and the inner turmoil i've created. the same fire spits in various, more dissipated directions, but most of it burns furiously upon the wick of her heart and soul because she is an easy target. and i am a tyrant. with a wicked itchy rash and a stultifying need for the same affection i cannot force myself to give. she needs to rise up and oust me as much as i need to rise up and oust my internal and external dictators. when i'm finally toppled, oh, how i'll fall.