Ugh.

The ridiculous text conversation with The Pedant happened over Thursday and Friday. In the end I asked point-blank if he wanted to be in a relationship with me and he said yes. Saturday morning I wrote him an email basically intended to help undo his obvious baggage that triggered the ridiculous conversation, plus give him some behavioural guidelines going forward.

On Saturday afternoon I went out for lunch with a friend. Got home that evening and was feeling better about all the Pedant stuff and just wanted things to go back to normal. I knew that he had recently bought some new turtlenecks from his seamstress friend and so I sent him a chatty text asking how they turned out.

Then it suddenly became very, very clear that lunch had been tainted in some way. I have a vomiting phobia though so I lay in bed for a full eight hours having the cold sweats and waiting for the foulness to wring its way through my system and out my ass. And indeed, I did have a bout of diarrhea. But even after eight hours (during which I texted The Latent Heterosexual to please bring me gravol and other stomach medicines and he did, bless him) my stomach was clearly still full of the tainted food – huge and round like a fishbowl full of carbonated mud. It distressed me that the food wasn’t digesting. It made me wonder whether I’d be stuck feeling bloated and nauseated for the entire rest of my life. So for the first time in my life I actually tried to vomit…but couldn’t. Fuck.

I slept fitfully for a couple of hours, emailed the boss at the next day’s gig that I would be coming in no matter what but that I had food poisoning and would need to do a really easy, relaxed pose (I couldn’t afford to skip work; art models don’t get paid sick days), and soon after that I did manage to throw up, without even really trying so much as just giving myself permission. It wasn’t fun, obviously, but not as awful as I’d feared, and it made me feel a lot better. Now I’m wishing I’d let the whole mess come up at the beginning when my stomach first began to rebel.

When I woke up Sunday morning The Pedant hadn’t even gotten my turtleneck text yet (phone turned off to avoid me?). I assume he was still processing the asinine fight he’d started, and normally I’d try to give him space, but dammit I’d had a horrible night and ostensibly he is my partner and I share my rough times with partners. I texted him: “Welp, I was up most of the night with food poisoning and barfed for the first (through fifth) time in 20 years. And now off I go to work.”

At some point my two texts went from not-yet-delivered, to delivered-but-not read, to (as of this morning, I think) read. But he hasn’t replied and it’s now Monday evening. And I’m baffled.

Okay, sometimes he just gets really busy for a day or two and forgets to reply to me and then I’ll get a bunch of replies to various things all at once. I’m trying to give benefit of the doubt here. But I feel like this is kind of a pivotal moment in our relationship – for a while there it really seemed like we might break up. And then we tenuously resolved things and I sent him an email kind of sealing the deal…which he has not acknowledged. And two friendly texts that he has not acknowledged. And he should know better. At least twice now I’ve told him that I get antsy when I write him an important/emotional email and he says nothing about it (and one of those times, his delayed response led to me snapping and breaking up with him).

But given that a big part of our recent discussion was about how much he hates dealing with others’ anxiety, I feel like it would be a tactical mistake to badger him for reassurance right now. And anyway, I may need reassurance but maybe he needs silence and his needs are important, too.

My friend Dom says that The Pedant probably just needs to process for a bit. I don’t really understand what there is to process. I guess he’s just taking a super long time to absorb the idea that I’m not like his exes?

Just…y’know. It’ll probably all work out, but AssholeBrain likes to make wild speculations and keeps insinuating that my asking The Pedant not to openly disparage people with anxiety will be a dealbreaker for him. That right now he’s debating to himself whether he can possibly stand to be with me and not talk shit about my mental issues, and he’ll eventually decide that no, he cannot. And he’ll bail.

Goddammit he’d better say something to me soon. Anything. Even just an “Oh that sucks that you had food poisoning” text. Something that lets me know we’re still on speaking terms.

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