Despite being an amazingly argumentative woman I find it impossible to argue with The Blokey. As the only girl of four siblings I was dragged up to believe that fighting was normal, even for the most trivial of reasons. And it was always okely-dokely … I bopped them, they bopped me, Game Over. What it must have been like for Mumsy I’ll probably never know! The intimate relationships that I formed as a young adult were fairly volatile too, although the bopping was usually less intense, except for when Katie met BullyBoy.
So, The Blokey is the complete opposite of me when it comes to arguing. And thus, we don’t. It was a major learning curve for me; I had to ‘kick the habit’. This was a chap who had no intention of falling for my “I’m a girl, you’re a guy, let’s argue!” mentality. But over the years I’ve grown used to not arguing. I won’t deny that I find it difficult. My tongue tends to get very sore from the amount of times it gets bitten. Instead of biting, I seethe. Whilst I seethe, I ponder. Whilst I ponder, I wallow …
I doubt that it’s good for me. Too much seething/pondering/wallowing can make KatieF veryveryvery angry indeed. I think that’s why my blog postings are often negative; they’re a form of release.
Anyway, for the first time in goodness knows how long myself and The Blokey indulged in an argument last night. The following is a reconstruction …
The Living Room in KatieF Land. Our couple are watching the tellybox. It’s not important what they’re watching, and even if it were, our heroine is unable to remember anyway. Blokey laughs. KatieF is confused; she knows it’s not a comedy on the tellybox.
katieF: What?
Blokey: Nothing.
And, as silly as it sounds, that was it. Oh, there was something else but it was so random I can’t even remember, and it culminated in The Blokey proclaiming, This is ridiculous, I’m not talking to you again tonight.
And he didn’t.
*gasp*
For the first time ever I went to bed without kisses and cuddles last night (and that’s not a euphemism, I genuinely do mean kisses and cuddles) after simply telling him I’d appreciate it if he could post a card that I’d left on the coffee table in the living room. To make it even worse, I then didn’t nudge him awake this morning to plant a kiss on his cheek and whisper Goodbye as I left for work. On both occasions he would have reciprocated if I’d attempted to bury the hatchet, so it’s all me. And I do feel a tad bad.
But I am so angry. Not with him, just with life in general. It’s all a pile of poo at the moment (with poo being kidley failure, and the pile being Our Future.)
Our Future is dialysis (or a transplant). There’s nothing temporary about it anymore. And nobody, not one single person (except for Mumsy) has even asked me how I really and truly feel about it.
Nobody.
I just want an argument … it’s the only sane way I know of clearing my head.
*happy thoughts*
