I’m a patient woman, you’ve gotta understand that. I don’t care if you’re late for dinner, I don’t care if you don’t pick up your socks, I don’t care if you keep forgetting to call me. I’ll just call you if I need you. But see, everyone has their limits, right? You can’t just let everything slide, that just doesn’t make any sense. That’s no way to live, you end up taking crap from everyone that way and I’ve got a crap limit. And last night, Gerard hit that limit.
We’ve been together almost three years now, and I’ve been picking up his socks and waiting while he finished phone calls so we could go to dinner. I didn’t care when he got my birthday mixed up with his ex-wife’s birthday – even though they are two months apart. I didn’t even do that passive aggressive thing where you pretend it doesn’t matter while you seethe. I just called him out on it, told him that he mixed my day up with Serena’s and so we were going to be going out to the movies on Saturday and here was a list of suggested birthday gifts. I’m straightforward, there are no games. I’m not playing around. I’m a grown up woman not some teenaged girl in a sit-com. I gotta mention the sit-com part because I don’t think any real teenaged girl is so wrapped in boys as the shows pretend they are and they are definitely not as over the top dramatic either. Anyway, so my point is, that most of the stuff that will bug people don’t even faze me. I’m not worried about them.
I won’t stand for being disrespected though. I’m having none of that. You can’t just toss me aside, or pretend that I’m not important. I know exactly how important I am, thank-you-very-much. And that’s why I was so put out last night. Gerard was talking to some ladies at a fancy party we were at for his work. We looked great, me in a cocktail dress and him in a suit so fancy it was almost a tuxedo and he’s talking about dancing. About how he loves to dance. It’s his favourite. And this a man who has refused to dance with me at weddings for the past three years. I’m a good dancer too, everyone wants to dance with me. Everyone except him.
But there he is going on and on about how much dancing is an important part of his life and how he wanted to be a dancer when he was a kid but it was impractical so he went into accounting instead. Then there was the big line, the one that snapped everything in two. That’s when he said that dancing was his first love.
Imagine. Not only is he some sort of secret dancer, so secret that his girlfriend doesn’t know about it, but dancing is his first LOVE? I am a patient woman but I cannot put up with that. He didn’t even make a joke about having other loves, it just him and dancing.
I walked out. It was the only thing to do.
I hope him and dancing are very happy together.
(15m writing, no editing (busy day!))