Skipped
Year : 2019
My son was born on January 6th.
It seems really surreal to type that. Everything has been like that. I have some time to write while he sleeps. I’m alone right now because my wife is mad at me. I wish I had the energy to fill in the gaps between now and then. Our anniversary. Times at work. All the other moments. But right now I have nothing to do but talk to myself. Its weird. I want to talk to her but I don’t. I don’t know how to feel. That’s the only thing that’s on my mind to write about. It’s sad and scary and stupid. Especially when I think of how it started. I think I’m the only one who thinks of how our disagreement started. It started about two days ago when I wanted some cookies. Then after that I had to go to the bathroom before we left the store. I can’t believe arguments actually start like this. About these subjects. I’m tired of arguing and apologizing. I can count all of the sentences we exchanged after that on both hands. Most of it was just her complaining about some random thing I did or didn’t do. It feels like I can do no right. So it annoys me even more when she makes a small mistake. But despite me taking time to write all this I’m actually happy with her and our overall relationship. Outside of our occasional disagreements. I would really regret it if our relationship went wrong over something so stupid. But that’s what we do. I can’t help but give the situation the silent treatment. Whatever I say has the potential to turn into another arguement. If I stay quiet the result is the same. I just want to pretend I’m alone. It’s less painful to me than being in a house with someone who avoids you and doesn’t want you around while you want them around. I just act as if I’m alone and everything is fine that way. She just goes along with it with no attempt to resolve the situation in my eyes. There were times where I would let it bother me to the point that I would just go and sincerely make up regardless of circumstances. But now I’m just emotionally drained and it doesn’t make any sense to me. I usually trust my senses even though I’m suffering because of it. I want to see you, talk to you, touch you. Yet I didn’t push you away in the first place, you just separate yourself without saying anything. Something I wouldn’t do, something I can’t understand. I can’t mentally comprehend how you love/hate me and can do that at the same time.