Aaaaaaand it's over.
Probably - hopefully - for good this time. We're both kind of sick of one another.
After the fight on the 13th and the subsequent makeup on the 20th, Ron and I were having a good week. Friday the 27th was a super-busy day. In the morning I went to have brunch at an old friend's place in Tel-Aviv (she made shakshouka and got bread, and I made salad and lemonade) and then in the afternoon we had a Salsa Mob event at the country club in Ron's (and frankly, 99% of the Mob's) town. It was really fun, we got in for free and danced to liven up the place, could use the pool, the gym, whatever.
Ron didn't go in the water, which kind of sucked, but I let him be. We sat together for some time, danced with others the rest of the time, or spent time apart with me in the pool and him napping in the shade or playing frisbee with some of the guys.
In the evening we went to Ori's birthday party (Ron finally agreed, after I almost got mad enough to pick a fight about it) and in the car on the way, told me that I'd been "amazing" at the pool that day. For a second I thought, uh, what, the way I danced? The way I looked in a bathing suit? What? And when I asked him what he meant, he said "The way you let me be and didn't want to spend every single second together. It was awesome."
Well. Thanks, teacher. I felt like a kid being told "Good on you" for getting a project right or for following instructions well. It was kind of humiliating, but I didn't way anything since we were on the way to Tel-Aviv and I did NOT want a fight during Ori's birthday, it would be totally awkward. I got mixed up a little bit in Tel-Aviv and Ron's directions did not help. What did help was Ron's reaction to my dress when we finally got out of the car next to the pub - it was a tight black dress with a sheer cleavage - basically quite covering, but with a sort of sneak-peek. And hey, a thight black mini-dress? Always sexy :)
We stayed for about an hour and a half and then left. I'd had a cocktail and was definitely tipsy, and Ron took playful advantage of it when we got to my place. It was great, and I was so happy that he'd been a good sport and gone with me to Ori's birthday, that I didn't even get mad when Ron refused to stay for lunch the next day, when my Mom invited him. I even came over to his place again on Saturday and Sunday nights, and everything was going well.
Thursday night was the Jewish love holiday. I wore a sexy red dress (which I'd taken to work with me because I had the evening shift, and I asked my boss for special permission to leave early even though it was a very busy night) and I'd wanted to go to the Salsa club because they were having a special love holiday 'romantic' themed night. Ron didn't want to go, saying it would be crowded and he was tired. I let it go, and said we could do something else. He didn't go along with any of my plans and didn't have anything good to offer on his end, and even his reaction to the dress was lacking (at least from what I could tell - he did a double take but didn't even say "wow". He later claimed that he did say it, but quietly - so fuck you, what's the point??).
So yeah, I was slightly angry with him, but I decided not to say anything. Still, in proper form, I sulked in the car on the way to the movie theater (we decided to go see The Dark Knight Rises). And Ron forced it out of me, and along with it came a load of other hurtful stuff. He pulled the car over on the side of the road and we spent a few minutes in silence (and I cried, fuck it, I hate how often he makes me cry) but honestly - personally I think Ron made a bigger fuss over things than was warranted - we could have let it slide and had a great night, but nooooooo, he has to know what's going on and why I'm quiet.
We did go see the movie, and it was pretty damn awesome, but he didn't let me touch him the entire time we were there (6 hours total, including getting there, eating dinner, waiting for the show to start, and 3 hours of the movie itself) but when we got to his place, I got this weird sort of panic. At first I was so tired that I collapsed onto the bed (dress, shoes, glasses, everything) and Ron started... well he started takeing care of me. He took off my glasses and shoes, scooted me up higher on the bed so my head was on a pillow, and even covered me with a blanket and didn't turn on the AC because he probably thought I'd get cold. Every single touch of his hands sent me into a panic - mostly because he hadn't touched me the entire evening before it, and also because... no matter how angry he is with me, Ron always takes care of me when I crash like this. And it turns my stomach, that he can still be - almost kind, even when he's sick of me. It made me cry, then cry harder, then finally have so much trouble breathing I had to run to the window and claw at the blinds to open it and get some air.
In the end I calmed down, took off my dress and changed into a tank top, and got back to bed. At one point Ron did put his hand over my waist, but we didn't sleep cuddled like we normally do.
In the morning we got up, Ron ate, but I didn't have any appetite (very rare for me) and then we talked a bit. Ron used the exact same words he always does when we have this fight, except that he claimed that this time would be different. He finally almost manned up and broke up with me, except he didn't really come out and say it. He said something like "We should stop this here, take a step back, try going back to being friends."
When I said "Fine" and got up to leave, he forced me to stay and tell him how I felt about it. Fuck, dude, seriously? If you want to end things then I'm not going to force myself or my presence on you, I'm going to fucking leave. No, he had to hear my opinion. What the fuck does my opinion matter? He made it very clear that he cares nothing for my opinion, when it's opposed to his. If he thinks that he acted fine, then no amount of words, looks, explanations or tears on my part are going to convince him that he acted wrong, or that no matter if he acted right or wrong, I ended up getting hurt. He just doesn't fucking care, he thinks his ideals are more important that my feelings. He doesn't believe he needs to compromise or change the way he acts in order to make me feel better.
Well fuck him then.
I'm not honestly angry - as I said in the header, it's hopefully the last time, and it's for the best. I need a boyfriend who will care about me. I need someone who is willing to put effort into a relationship. And I'm not ashamed to say that I want a boyfriend who can get the car and who will choose to pay for dinner even if he was the one who drove.
I am slightly ashamed to say that all this time, these past months, every time Ron and I fought, I've thought of Romano, the guy who kissed me during Ron's and my second fight and week apart. We haven't talked much since then, and only saw each other for a bit during my birthday party, but I just can't stop thinking that if he still wants me, then he'd be a great boyfriend. The question is, how soon can I try? How soon - and just plain how - should I approach him, and broach the subject?
...
Adding to all this: one of our cats, Buffy, went missing for over 30 hours. She finally showed up, exhausted, dehydrated, and looking very bad indeed. She didn't look injured - no broken limbs or bleeding, but we took her to a veterinary hospital immediately. This time I didn't let my parents take her and leave me behind but came along.
The vet says she has a deflated lung and an air pocket in her chest. The air has to be drained and we hope her lung/s will re-inflate. She's been admitted and will be in intensive care for the next 24 hours at least. We'll have more news tomorrow.