So here is the deal.

I had not heard from Patrick in two days. Since we speak 3-5x a day either by phone, TeamSpeak or IM, this was obviously highly unusual. Phone calls, IMs and txt messages went unanswered.

He proceeds to IM me a few hours ago, detailing his disapparence. He, allegedly, went drinking last night (alone), got intoxicated to the point he could not drive. He called a taxi. A taxi never showed up (allegedly). He then proceeded to DRIVE home. Going a few short blocks, he pulled his car over when the police apparently showed up. He was then arrested for “public intoxication” and sent to detox for 18 hours.

Um, yah.

He called me and I told him I furious — furious enough to not comment about this little escapade. A few hours later he IM’s me to tell me he’s sorry he’s hurt me, and he wants my support and love. “For what?” I ask. “To be there for me an all.” I retorted with this:

If you want to be with me, You have to get your shit together and I don’t mean just the drinking.
I love you Patrick, a lot, but I can’t sit idly by watching you make a train wreck of your life.
And this can’t be a flip comment, you’ve seriously got to think about what you want from me, your life, our relationship. And I’ll support you 100 percent on anything you want to do with your life, no matter what but I can’t support you while you deconstrcut yourself and our relationship.

He said he’s “thinking.”

I see.

Room in his basement

Ben and I have been playing phone tag for the last month or so, which is amusing trying to keep time tables straight as he is in Belgium and I’m in the US. I called him back tonight to chat because I wanted to talk to someone who made me laugh and if it’s anyone, it’s him.

I’m really upset I won’t get to meet him in France in a few months — something he and I were both looking forward to do. Unfortunately, he’s taking his finals during the week I’ll be there where as he had the week off when my trip was first arranged for the previous week. We’re now talking about meeting sometime in the summer, if ach gets me those tickets for the Reading Festival AS PROMISED or if Ben decides to take a trip to Canada and I’ll meet him there.
He’s completely disquieted about my relationship with Patrick and he doesn’t understand why I’m still seeing him. Maybe it’s a Euro vs American thing? Dunno, but he’s concerned about me, as long as I send him jelly belly jellybeans and Peeps.
I’m kidding.

I’m concerned as well, and the situation isn’t getting any easier. Having conversations with Patrick is like pulling teeth from a chicken. I was feeling particularly romantic today and I called him to tell him I missed him. Dumped me to vm. Called again several hours later and got dumped to VM again. Patrick called back and I was excited and happy, and I told him I missed him. “Why do you miss me?” he asked. Which, totally ruined the moment. This isn’t the first time he’s done this. He refuses to absolutely talk about his feelings with me at all and every conversation we have sounds like a business meeting. There is no romance and it bothers the living shit out of me. I’ve told Patrick this, this isn’t a new story. But I don’t get IT — if you love me then what the fuck is the difficulty in telling me that you do?

Because to Patrick, it’s “too painful to tell you.”

This is 180 degrees from the Patrick I started talking to back in November. I wrote this late december and he called me that day after he read it to tell me how much it meant to him. How crappy his ex-relationships were and how sensuality, love and meaning had gotten tossed out the window. How much he NEEDED, WANTED and DESIRED everything I wrote. We were on the same plane, finally. I was on the same plane as someone and it was going to work!

When did things start going downhill? Shortly before my last trip out there. Sex became mechanical and featureless. He kept harping on my stupid blow jobs — because yes, they are just that great. I swear to god, I’m never putting my mouth on another penis again. Ever. Because that is what sex was reduced to on the last trip – me giving blowjobs and okay sex. Not the great VAVOOM that it was two months prior. I’m supposed to take into consideration that his work and personal life were in an uproar, he was sick (as was I), but damnit, you have not seen me in two months! I don’t fucking get the 180 degree flip as for months you did nothing but tell me how you missed me, wanted me, loved me etc.

And now nothing.

Ben and I have had this long running joke for the last few years about saying “fuck you” to the world, giving up school, moving to the South of France and bearing giant amazonian children (he’s 6’7). When I came back from Denver all bummed and was talking to Ben about the trip, he was also equally remorse about his personal life. One of us had said, “We should have just chucked everything away and gone to the South of France.”

We both agreed we should have.

[pfp] search and destroy

Lots of people have been asking me, “how was Denver??” and the most I could tell them was, “great!” or “good!”

But no descriptions or adjectives to describe what was going down.

Why did I, the prolific of them all, clam up?
Especially when it comes to the uber personal crap, which is my forte.

Because here is the deal, shit in Denver wasn’t all that great. Some days it was downright awful. Lots of things were going on: Patrick and I were both sick. One of his bosses had just left Denver the morning I arrived and kept him on a tight leash all week He quit his main job due to personal stress and conflict of interest half way through my trip. My hormones were on fire from the BC. Things were terrible at some points and okay in others.

As I was explaining to darkdepths tonight, the problem with voicing what happened that week on LJ has it’s ramifications, because even if I prefaced with the background I just told you and then told you the facts of what went down, people would be calling for blood — his blood. You, my dear readers as my friends, would be asking why the hell was I still with this man?

Now, before you get panties in a twist, he didn’t beat me, abuse me, cheat on me, rape me, or any other horrible things. He didn’t drink while I was there nor did he do anything that would warrant a lynching. But I also knew, as it were with how we hear stories, save for a minute few, none of you have met Patrick. So even if after all that I had to say and I defended him, I would sound like I needed to be thrown on Ricki Lake or else I was just fooling myself.

Patrick and I talked about what went down before I left. I voiced my concerns and he agreed that I was right and he understood where I was coming from, but that didn’t take away from what had happened. All my defense modes were on and as of right now, I have zero idea where this relationship is heading. I still don’t feel like the problems have been resolved (to me) though he feels differently, he really wants this to continue.

This isn’t really about love anymore, but about if we have what it takes to make it work. The problem (or not) about this is that I know where Patrick is coming from. I understand why he does the things he does and why he sometimes treats me like I’m an object and not a person. I understand from his past why he is emotionally closed and unable to communicate his feelings. I’ve expressed that to him and I also realise that a good relationship takes time and effort from both parties but it’s highly unlikely in this case when we are 1100 miles away and the only time we have together is destroyed because of other issues rising.

But as darkdepths pointed out so wisely, it’s not a matter of him merely understanding what I’m saying but he needs to change several things about his tune if he wants to keep me. But I also know that things have to cool down a bit, work is still crazy and he has an old friend of his (male) in town staying with him. So, we’ll see.

There you have it.