Today's Rail

Second post, but not same as the first. The first was "Hello- not sure I belong here." This one is "I've got to say this to someone or something, whether someone reads this or not."

Please let it be known that I love my husband. I adore him, and would do anything in this world for him. I trust him implicitly, I believe in him, and enjoy making a life with him. But today, he sucks. He's sucked for a while. When we're around others, he's so sweet & funny. But if it's just he & I, the jaws all of a sudden wire shut, and all I get are mono syllabic answers to things like, "How was your day?", "Your shoulder feeling better?" "Would you rather have chicken or pork for dinner tonight?". Ok, the last one would get a longer response, but still as bland as the others. And that's not the only thing. He doesn't ask how my day was. He leaves the dishes in the sink as if they are waiting for only me to do them, he points out all the weird little things I do that I know are weird & follows it up with a sweeping statement like "I was just making an observation." Well, thanks. I almost flew under the radar just then but luckily, you kept that from happening.

Mostly though, I think the shittiest thing of all - at least I think it is- is that I get the feeling, impression, vibe (whatever you wanna call it) that the problem here is me. Like today, I came home from work to him cooking dinner, and obviously frustrated about something. I later found out he had screwed up the sauce to the meat and had to redo it, thus expanding dinner time by 20 minutes or so. So, I enter the apt & smell everything cooking, drop my load of crap on the floor, and say "Hey, honey!"
"hey"
"How are ya?"
"fine"
"Smells good!"
"thanks"
"You allright?"
"yep"
"Need help with anything?" "nope"

I know you're pissed just reading this, right? Ok - whatever. I continue about my "decompression" time by immediately dislodging my shoes, changing clothes, and petting the dogs, who by this time are throwing thier world famous "We're Orphan Dogs" eyes at anyone in a 3 mile radius. Blang! Thud! stir, stir, scrape. Slam! I continue ignoring, and decide that Facebooking in the next room would be a nicer, quieter escape. Not 3 minutes in and -- "dinner's ready". So, up I go & fix my plate & start to eat. In silence. Why? Because he's in a bad mood and - as I carefully think ahead of previous scenarios of this kind- what would the outcome be if I tried to start conversation? Similar to the aforementioned one that makes me want to shove lit cigarettes in my eyes. So, I eat my broccoli in quiet, & watch what I can of "King of Queens" or whatever was on .
"you're dying to ask me something, aren't you?"
"No, not really. I could tell you were not in the best mood ever & just decided that you probably wouldn't want to talk. And to be honest, I was sort of waiting to see if you would ask me how my day was sometimes. "
" i do ask you how your day was . sometimes. "
" I know. "
"i mean, you gotta know i'm not gonna talk much when i just got out of bed."
" I know."

And the silence continued until the newsstory about a local car dealer who (ironically) died in a car accident came up, then he asked if I had heard of it. I nicely volunteered to make his lunch for work tonight, and did the dishes because that's the rule (whoever cooks, the other does the dishes - not a bad rule, per se). And there was quite a stack of them. So while I'm slinging butter knives and spatulas and sauce pans around, I'm stewing the whole time. Why should I HAVE to know that ? Why is it always me that has to adjust to him? If I make an "observation" about him, then I'm being a bitch or he'll say "thanks for telling me" in a snotty, condescending way. I HAVE to understand that he deals with his anger or frustration by yelling & slamming stuff and that's how it is. But if I do the exact same thing, suddenly I'm acting ridiculous over something simple.
He complains that I never tell him how I really feel, but to be honest, I don't want to. I mean, it's just an invitation to a never ending argument between 2 defensive people who have issues left over from their respective upbringings.
OOoh! And I just thought of this. I am, apparently, not to be trusted on my own with the following items or I'll damage them forever beyond repair (not his EXACT words, mind you): the large kitchen knife on the glass cutting board ( I'll dull it by my constant hacking on the glass), the gear shift pedal in his truck (I'll wear it out because I was taught to push it in when I brake), the Teflon pans (I'll scratch them up by stirring or cooking with metal utensils). I'm sure I'll think of others as soon as I post this, but these will suffice. I mean, WTF?? I managed to live on my own for 26 years - quite successfully, I might add- doing all of these things, and never once did something completely crap out on me because of it.

Well, I needed to say that. I still do, actually. So,I think I need to make a date with my husband to "talk". And I need to be honest and forthright. I've been told I have good customer service- perhaps that will work in my favor here? I shouldn't be anxious or worried - he's my husband, my partner, my equal. He wants to know how I feel, and I said I would work on it & try to do better. So here I go. And I should make a list of the 3 most important things that are weighing on me right now. I suppose my rant about the knife & gear shift can wait for another time.