My woman lies in the other room on the bed with a book. The only words she has spoken to me since I returned from work were sarcastic or scurrilous. She claims her <em>mood</em> springs from our Skype chat earlier. I invited her to go to a film tonight and she asked why I liked sitting down so much. She said she’d go, but I have to go to power yoga with her in return. I told her I would not feel comfortable in a group exercise environment (which is certainly true) and she was patently offended, it seems.
We have been wavering. For a long time now.
She treated me with this emotional icyness in the past and I endured it, always building, hoping for better days. Perhaps I was wasting my time. Perhaps she was wasting hers, as well. It is certainly an indication that our relationship is on the rocks when what were once seen as only small cracks in my personality now must shield themselves from a torrential flood from her. So she is not happy. How to let it go?
She said she was looking for a new place to live. She said she wants to leave me. It hurt. It still does a bit, but the pain is waning. As I strolled through the chilly evening from the bus-stop to our flat, I felt a smile creep to my lips as I thought of freedom.
