So I had my nice long brood. >24 hours of brooding. I cried. I talked to people about what I was upset about. I was asked questions in very polite ways I was given advice I hadn’t asked for… I smiled and nodded and ignored all advice.

By the time Puppy got home I had cycled through all the nasty crap in my head enough times that it all came down to one point. Love isn’t easy. I think that people choose to remain in love. You can get all pissy and out of whack and choose to not stay in a relationship or you can choose to deal with some shit. I’m not real big on running away from something just cause it is hard.

So he came home and I was back to my normal cheery peppy self. He asked me if I could tell him what had been going on and I told him bits and pieces of it–the pieces that pertained to him. We talked about the disconnect that happens when he says something flippantly and I take it in and follow it down 50 different paths in my head, most of which say/mean very bad things about me that had little or nothing to do with what he said. He told me, “As soon as the words left my mouth I could hear the neurons in your brain firing and I would have given anything to take those words back.” I’m ok now with knowing he didn’t mean what I heard let alone all the implications I created.

We didn’t really talk about the other piece of what has been upsetting me until we went to bed. Then he yelled at me and more or less laid down the law. I think that problem is resolved. *cough* (I haven’t felt great about how significantly our sex life has decreased and he told me that part of the problem is that I am choosing to not put my diaphragm in and then I come to bed and curl up and go to sleep because I am assuming he isn’t interested. He told me that I will start putting my diaphragm in every night again. He isn’t going to put up with me being pissy about this anymore because, damnit he isn’t sick anymore.

Puppy doesn’t suck.