The Pedant frustrates me, somewhat, with his inconsistency about things. Like yesterday when he initially planned on doing an outing alone but somehow came around to asking me along by the end of his sentence. Or today when he took me to breakfast and said he’d head home straight from the restaurant after but as we left the house he casually said “When we get back here let’s change the burned-out lightbulb in your hallway.”
I like being with him. I like when he helps me with household things. But I also feel that he routinely makes decisions to spend more time with me and then possibly regrets it later. And I worry that he’ll resent me for it even though I’m not the one asking for it.
This reminds me: during our first bout of sex this visit he did that thing where he paused in the middle of foreplay and just embraced me for a long time with his head on my chest. Radiating his submission into me, as it were. My knees went weak and my voice dried up but I still managed to whisper the word”mine.” I assumed he wouldn’t even hear it but he gave a tiny little answering gasp. God, so hot.
Sometime after the sex I had the wee talk I’d been meaning to have with him for ages: namely, I brought up how he seems to have an ongoing fear of partners becoming “too possessive” and assured him that when I use the word “mine” it has nothing to do with wanting monogamy. The Pedant said he never thought that it did, with me. And then went on to say that his idea of “too possessive” is someone expecting him to spend all his free time with her. He gave me kind of a long speech about how he needs time to himself and doesn’t want to spend all of his days off work with someone. Which makes me wonder: does he think I ever asked him to?
I’ve observed in a previous post here that The Pedant has made a point of telling me, a few times, that he’s spent all his recent days off with me (which I don’t think was ever even true; he gets at least two days off per week and I usually see him about once every two weeks). I didn’t know if he was saying it to make me feel guilty or what, and now I’m really wondering. But the thing is, if he does come over on all his days off, that’s his own fault. I can’t remember ever saying “Hey – when’s your next day off? Come over.” I ask “When can I see you next?” and he is perfectly free to skip over his next days off and tell me the ones after that. His schedule varies from week to week so I never even know when he’s off, anyway. I rely on him to tell me. And if he says “I’m off on Thursday but I have stuff to do,” I don’t question it – for all I know the “stuff” he has to do is jerk off and order a pizza, and that’s his prerogative. He does however tend to elaborate on what his errands are without me having asked, as if feeling a need to justify himself.
One weekend he called me on the phone (no reason; just to chat) and mentioned in passing that he was all backed up on household chores because he’d been spending all his free time with me. And then went on to talk to me for another two hours WTF. I was actually going stir crazy and wanting to get off the phone so I could get some shit done, but when I’d say “Well, I should get going” he kind of didn’t stop talking. I tried twice but the phone call only ended when he said he needed to go.
So…I’m getting a vibe that he regularly extends his time with me of his own volition because he loves me and is having fun and doesn’t wanna go, but it seems feasible that he could be blaming this all on me. I think a talk is in order because goddammit I will not be falsely painted as the possessive girlfriend who takes up all his time. He’s doing this shit to himself.
Topic change: near the end of the visit The Pedant started really pissing me off. And also actually a little bit in the middle of the visit, too. Sometimes he makes the kind of jokes a teenager would who’s insecure and/or trying to impress people with his bravado or his super-cool detached irony. I’m glad I’ve gotten a bit better at voicing my irritation with it.
Sometime yesterday he made some crack…shit, I can’t remember the context at all or the exact phrasing but it was similar to the old saying of “I love you like a fat kid loves cake.” I think I’d been saying something about two people getting into fisticuffs, or something, and he said something like “would you say it’s accurate that they were going at it like fat people fighting over the last piece of pie?” – that’s not exactly it, but it was something like that.
I responded, “I would say that you’re making a whole lot of assumptions about fat people that I don’t care for.”
He backtracked somewhat – but of course maintaining a glib, detached tone the whole time – and I persisted in telling him that I would not have his fatphobic bullshit in my house until he finally shut up.
At the end of the visit, he stood in my hallway preparing to depart and I was on the couch snuggling with Bastardcat, who kneaded my upper chest hard enough that it hurt and I had to manually unstick his claws from my flesh. The Pedant suggested I get him declawed.
Now, The Pedant is always making ridiculous overblown suggestions about torturing my cats. It’s just his high school sense of humour. But he kept talking about it and I eventually realized that he was serious this time.
I said – and can I just say, my tone of voice came out pretty terrifying and anyone else would have backed down right away – “I will not be cutting off chunks of my cats’ bodies beyond spaying and neutering them. Don’t bring it up again.” But The Pedant kept on arguing that it might be a good idea. I pretended to go along with it in order to make a point: “Okay, I’ll consider declawing them. But also? If your toenails ever poke me when we’re sleeping next to each other, I’m getting your toes cut off. And hey, what do you think will happen if your penis displeases me?”
He smirkily said “What, displeases you by stabbing you? That’s never been a problem for you before.” Har-dee-har-har.
But we kept on talking about it and in the course of the conversation it came up that declawing basically means severing a cats’ toes at the first joint, and The Pedant was like “Oh shit, does it? I didn’t know that” and I was like THAT’S WHY DECLAWING IS AWFUL AND I WON’T DO IT. Jesus.
Annnnd then somehow the conversation veered off in another direction and The Pedant ended up saying that it would be an good idea to shoot mentally ill homeless people with tranquilizer darts, put them in straitjackets, and take them away in a van, never to be seen again. I wish to crap I could remember the context of that remark. I think I’d been talking about how often I get bothered when I’m downtown because my weird appearance draws in people who are kinda off-kilter, and he suggested tranquilizers and straitjackets as a solution.
I said that idea would be a solution to my particular issue but wouldn’t really solve anything for the homeless people. The Pedant (again with the bravado – I suppose it would make him feel like a wimp to just cave and go “Okay, that was insensitive, I take it back” – he has to push his stupid jokes as far as they’ll go) insisted that it would be a solution of sorts. I guess meaning that if someone is unconscious then they can’t hear the voices in their head anymore, so…yay?
Just as a reminder for those of you watching at home, I am mentally ill. Not the kind where you have aural hallucinations, but mentally ill nonetheless. And The Pedant saying to my fucking face that mentally ill people should be tranqed and left somewhere to die and this would be a great solution for all concerned enraged me so much that I couldn’t even speak.
And he doesn’t even actually think that, is the thing!!! He just gets in these moods where he tries to make “edgy” jokes and won’t back down from them. But in other moments he’s told me that he has all kinds of sympathy for the mentally ill, because the idea of one’s perceptions being unreliable is terrifying to him. He’s patient and sweet (mostly) about my issues. And his awesome chick-friend who we met last night? He told me ahead of time that he really really wanted to go to that pub night because she rarely comes out to social things due to issues with anxiety and schizophrenia and now that she’d decided to venture out, he wanted to be there for emotional support and to introduce her to people so she’d feel more comfortable.
He doesn’t seem to actually be terribly fatphobic, either, in that he’s dated plus-sized women before and also still seems to find me attractive even though I’ve gained weight (and doesn’t police my food intake or nag me to exercise or ever imply that I got to this size out of lack of discipline, either).
Anyway I was just not in the damn mood to kick up some big fight over his hateful joke about mentally ill people – especially because I knew he didn’t mean it and that he’d just be a glib motherfucker about it so as not to lose face – so I let the conversation peter out and simply bade him goodbye.
Oh hey…I wonder if The Pedant was being a little extra annoying this visit because he’d been socializing with other people? He has an aloof tough-guy facade he puts up with people most of the time – including me, at first – and maybe he was fixing that in place in preparation for the pub night, and having a hard time shrugging it off again after. Because even aside from the shitty jokes I’ve mentioned, he had at least three or four instances of repeating back exactly what I’d just said to him as though he was explaining something to me. He hasn’t done that shit in a while.
Maybe it’s a good thing that our relationship is mostly conducted in private.
Before I conclude this post I’d like to mention some good things that really stood out.
The first is that he bought pretty much everything I ate all weekend long, including snacks while we were out and about. And he did it in such a caretaking way. Like, my energy totally bottomed out while we were running an errand and he was like “Do you need food? Maybe a soft drink or something? …No? Too much sugar? Maybe a cup of fruit-bottomed yogurt, so there’s protein in there? Okay, let’s find you a yogurt cup.” That shit completely melts me.
The second is that when he was leaving to go home he asked me “So is it okay if I keep your keys?”
I said absolutely. He hastened to add that he’d only keep them until he could make a set of plain copies and then I could have the original flamboyantly-patterned ones back. Boy, he sure does need me to know that he can’t tolerate anything pink or flashy. 😛 But still, about five months after I first extended the invite, he is finally ready to have a set of my keys. And I like that.