The last argument

I wrote the following entry following our last argument.

It's the first time I have not felt compelled to apologize, to bridge the gap, the gaping abyss that is created by his silence. Not sorry. This distance has to be here. I seem to be a non-person again. A non-being. A voice to be tolerated that echoes over the chasm from time to time. A voice that seems to take him by surprise, as though he's forgotten that there is a human over here on the other side.

No more bridges, extensions, swinging over on a vine to join him. I'm not going over. I'm staying here, staying put, holding my ground. It's not deliberate, it's just that it feels right to me this time. I need to surround myself with myself. I need to feel my feelings and hear my own thoughts and experience my own needs.

Too often (well...ALL the time, really) I've been too quick to fill in the cracks, blaming my own inadequacies, and forgiving him. The looping thoughts:

"He didn't mean it."

"He just doesn't know how to express himself."

"He just said it in anger. It's not really how he feels. "

Side bar: He's also a grown-ass man that could choose to communicate differently.

"What could I have done differently?"

"What was my role in this?"

"I can't change him, so I guess I'll have to do better next time."

Side bar: Because I'm a grown-ass woman who wants to communicate differently.

Anyhoo, there's always a next time. I don't do better. Neither does he.

But now I'm weary of reaching over and extending myself. Weary. It's wearing on me. I'm growing thin, worn-out, tired.

Where did my strength go?