This post has been a long time coming and it’s mainly because I have a personal boundary when writing about my relationship. I feel I can’t be honest in my writing if the beau is in the same room. And since Thursday of last week it has been really difficult finding a spare moment to sit down and put my thoughts down due to the altercations and events that happened here at home.

This past week has been totally crazy and really earth-shattering in terms of our relationship to each other. It kind of all started breaking down last Thursday night. The roomie was out of town and her boys were with their grandparents.

We had just finished watching the “So You Think You Can Dance” finale and started settling into our own individual exploiots to finish off the night. I think I was beginning to catch up on blog posts I had missed or something. The beau began watching whatever it is he watches. He had a bit to drink that night but seemed fine.

At this point in time, I really don’t remember the conversation that had begun but it soon erupted with the beau in an upright stalwart position tearing me down. He was literally yelling at me with anger in his face and I have no clue as to why it had occured.

For the first time in our time together, I wasn’t able to keep my cool and snapped. I’m not proud of it but I got up and told him that I wasn’t going to be yelled at anymore. I don’t deserve that kind of treatment and it will not happen again.

This really sent a reality check to his now obviously intoxicated mind that I was serious about this and he broke down and saw himself, truthfully, for the first time.

We had a long disussion that night about our future and it revolved around me finally making my decision to break things off, and how he believes he’s destroyed our relationship with many of the decisions he’s layed upon our lives. Ranging from the debt we’ve amounted with the two vehicles he financed, to moving into this new place with a single mother and two boys where we have to feel like we need to censor ourselves. It is an odd coincidence than many of our major problems lately have occured after our move to this new place. Maybe there’s just a bad vibe to the place.

In the end he decides that he’s gonna go back to his mother’s at some point in the next week and relieve all ties to me in the legal sense. Since he’s also covered on my work insurance, he tells me that he doesn’t want to use it for the surgery. I’m adamant about him still doing it but he still stubbornly declines.

The next few days we kind of tip-toe around each other. Exchanging niceities and glances toward one another but not really “saying” anything. I was trying to figure out a gameplan for myself and he trying to gather sympathy it seemed.

Fast forward to Sunday. I work until 6pm that night and I had a rather rough night at that. Pricekilling 4 clearance areas and then resorting them all into one area is a lot of work.

I come home and find the roomie, her boys, and the beau watching a movie. Appropriately it was “Godzilla.”

I do my usual routine of calming the puppy down (she’s ecstatic as soon as I walk in the door, excitedly jumping around my legs and heels), and making a trip to the bedroom to unload my bag and my pockets so I can begin my unwinding process from the workday.

The beau joins me in the room and he is totally sloshed. I mean droopy-eyed sloshed. Apparently this is the night where he decided to really roll over the breakup, what it would mean, and how to do it…while taking in excess amounts of gin.

While I was folding down the laundry I had set to dry before work, he begins to roll out all these scenarios he’s worked up in his head. He didn’t want me to carry the burden of the breakup. He wanted me to be the “good guy” and him the “bad guy”. He would “disappear” on me sometime in the near future to his mother’s and wanted to make sure that I would represent that it was all his fault.

The rest of the night ended up with much of this same back and forth. I just really sat back and let him talk because he was in such a state where if I gave any indication of disagreement it would cause an argument I didn’t want to have.

There was a confusing block of time where he’d want me in the room with him, then not, and then again. Again, he was really sloshed so take this into consideration. During all this, he decides to close the door using the end of one of his crutches and loses balance. He topples to the ground, hitting his nose on the door and breaking a picture en route with his elbow. It was conveniently sitting beside the door and now shards of glass were scattered around him.

He lay there sobbing for what seemed like forever. The Looney Tunes framed poster staring at him, now naked with only it’s image to protect. The glass never penetrated his skin but sill surrounded him like a strange accent piece.

The move was finally made to the side of the bed. He stayed propped there and continued on about how he would like our relationship to finish. He didn’t want it but was working on what I expressed. He quoted a number of times a line I posted a while back…”You love me, but you don’t like me.” And it was true. I didn’t like the person he had become and you all know that from past posts.

Thankfully, I finally got him into bed and asleep/passed-out.

What seems totally crazy is that with all the talking he did during these two nights, the next day he doesn’t remember much if any of what went on. Crazy.

I explain and we continue to tip-toe around each other. I’m pretty much living daily at this point with the thought we have broken up and he’s gonna disappear on me at some point. Which I was ready to deal with when it happened.

After all this, I need to explain things to him again and he blames his vocalizations on his drinking. That it’s not what he really feels and he wants this to work out.

Update to today.

His back surgery was today and he came out new and improved. He can walk again without crutches and it’s a great sight. He’s quit smoking and vowed to not drink again.

We had a discussion concerning our future once again when we got home. He thanks me whole-heartedly for everything I’ve done for us and for him. He then makes an offer to become better for me and to reconsider my thinking.

Since he’s made his stride in getting his operation finished, and quitting smoking…I decide to give him an indefinite “probationary” period. He’s gonna work on the issues.

Quitting his drinking, controlling his temper and dealing with at-home responsibilities.

I warned him that my switch has still mentally turned to the “off switch” and it may not be that easy to win me back on us as a couple. We’re gonna give it a try again, this time on more of a loose, open-ended basis. Because that’s what I need.

If giving up the alcohol will bring the old beau back I’m all for it. but I let him know, it is still a probationary period and I still have the right to play my card.

My heart wants it to believe the subtraction of the drink will improve ourselves but I somehow doubt it will.

Until then I’ll be supportive but living my own separate life regardless.

I need a vacation and some time off. I think i’ll take it soon. Wish me luck, it’s been a rough week.

Relationship status – Teetering

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