Filed under: Psonya & Tim
Last night I called Tim. It was one of those times when he was probably just sitting there watching TV, and the phone rings, and it’s me. Uneventful.
Except last night I presented a flurry of issues that I was having, all brought upon by myself and matters outside of my control. I was really calling him because I just wanted him to calm me down, but I know he didn’t get that by what I was saying. I was talking fast, all over the place, and really saying what amounted to nothing to him, but everything to me. And then I told him I wanted him to make me feel better.
The whole time I was talking, he was saying “What?”, “Okay…”, you know, like he wasn’t really following me. He didn’t know what to say. But I thought that he should, and he didn’t, so I became even more frustrated. Finally, he said “I don’t know what you want me to say.” And I didn’t know what I wanted him to say, either. But instead of saying that, I said “Well, I wanted you to make me feel better, but apparently you can’t.” And that was the end of that.
I felt bad about it, because, poor him, I drew him into this thing — MY thing — then I was mad when he didn’t have the magic words. For me and my thing. So I called him back and he didn’t answer. Go figure.
Then he called me back, and out of the blue he said the exact thing that I needed him to say. And he didn’t even know he was saying it. And he didn’t even mean to. But, at the same time, all my anxieties ceased and I felt like I could conquer the world again.
I’m so glad he’s mine.
And only mine.
