If a cow ever got the chance...

Gah. Now C is saying flat-out (rather than hinting) that I should get me some drugs and a nice shrink. He's probably right.

We're fighting a lot. He wants to hang out tomorrow but I told him I didn't want to because it's always the same: he picks me up, we argue over where to eat, we eat somewhere and it's always too much money (and most of the time even ten dollars is too much money), go back to my place (which is always unclean so I yell at him for making it more so), lie around non-erotically in our non-erotic underwear, have two or three or four drinks, he turns on the TV, I tell him to turn it off so I can go to sleep so I can go to work later, we fall asleep, he snores, I grind my teeth in my sleep which has necessitated a horrible little plastic retainer to protect them from me. this routine is the same whether it's monday night or tuesday night or saturday night. if we go to his place it's exactly the same except more TiVo is involved and the beds are twin bunkbeds (fuckin' A, it's third grade again) instead of a futon mattress on the floor (because the futon frame broke and I can't afford a real bed).

Sorry for all the parentheses, I can't seem to write lucidly anymore.

So I tell him all this, because I'm a bitch (and I feel OK telling you about it now because I told him already, that was the problem with last night's unposted entry), and he says in the voice that breaks my heart, "it didn't used to be like that when we hung out," and i say "what's different?" and he says, "for one thing you weren't so angry all the time..." later he says that if I dislike him so much I should break up with him, and I have nothing to say because this is true. I blame him, openly and not, for everything that's wrong with my life, and he puts up with it and even still loves me I think. Shouldn't that count for more than the fact that he doesn't know who Edith Wharton is and thinks "fatalistic" means "potentially death-causing"? What happened to that weekend we spent in Brighton, wandering down to the ocean with a change of clothes in our backpacks, eating great hunks of bread and Cheddar cheese on the train, and it is still the best meal I've had in my life? What about the person who told me I could sleep with whoever I wanted to if it made me happier than being monogamous with him? The person who made it a mission to find the best Middle Eastern restaurant in the city, the best Indian, the best vegetarian... Who bought me a DVD player two weeks ago, for no reason that I can understand?

I still love him very much, and I feel absolutely trapped in (and by) the relationship, and I don't see any way to downgrade it to "just friends." I don't think either of us is strong enough for that, and I am not willing to never talk to him again. I don't know what to do; I'm pretending the upcoming Michigan vacation will fix things.

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