September 13, 2007

So, nothing's really changed, except that I spent 2 days being perfect. It made absolutely no impact on the Boy, who wanted to know when the other shoe was going to drop. All I did was prove to myself that I could be nice & kind etc. and it wouldn't matter. Because it didn't. I never stopped hoping that it would matter, and I still have that hope now. But the fact is that it didn't change the situation, i.e. the Boy can't bring himself to live with me & my uncontrollable temper.

We went to a counselling session today and it was like getting punched in the gut for an hour. Absolutely nothing had changed in his attitude. Nothing I'd said this entire weekend after, 'if you don't love me, you have to move out and stop hurting me,' has made any impression on him. The fact is that he doesn't love me anymore, not in any common definition of the word. And he hasn't for awhile. And no hour talking about conflict management techniques will shake his conviction (p.s. I tried the techniques and found myself in another argument because the Boy wouldn't play along. Another hour, wasted.)

I just can't break through to him.

The inevitable is that we'll split, and I'll have to move into an apartment and start going to sports bars to meet men with moustaches and holes in their t-shirts. My fears have come true: the Boy is done with me and I'm 31. I'm well past my prime, and will never find anyone to love me. Dirk tells me not to buy the moustache waxer just yet (well, he said "wax moustacher," which is a wholly different concept) but I think I'll start brushing up on baseball stats just in case.

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Don't make me send out the Blake. He doesn't listen to *anyone.*