Like, legit.

Lets start by laying the ground-work.  As I'm writing this hullabaloo I am 31, I have an 8 year old daughter, a live-in boyfriend who has an 8 year old son and we collectively (really mostly me) care for a stupid cat named Tyson.  I landed my dream job just a couple months ago, we have a cute house in a sleepy subdivision and my kitchen table is gorgeous.  Who says 'you can't have it all'?

Jonas (that's the boyfriend) and I just wrapped up Round 1 of the January Semi-Professional Mortal Kombat I Love You But Hate Your Face tournament.  I won on a technicality (I got the last word as I walked out of the room).  'What were we fighting about?', you ask: my dad called me today to tell me that he loves me, worries about me and to remind me that geographical distance can't hinder his ability to be there "in a split second" whenever I call.  So, obviously, Jonas needed to know that he is failing as a human being because he has never said those exact words to me.  Like, legit.

Sigh.

Dad also mentioned that our neighbor of 20-some-odd years died last night.  Still not sure how I feel about that one.  I'm supposed to be sad on some level because I've known her since I was 5, right?  I'm supposed to be happy on some level because she's now "at peace".  Right?  Maybe I'm supposed to feel some balanced mixture of the two?  I don't know.  Mostly I just feel satisfied that after my glorious (technical) victory over my arch-soul-mate-nemesis he helped me trouble-shoot an issue with the intranet I'm developing for work.

So that's our pattern; Jonas and I.  One of us picks a fight by throwing an emotional grenade.  The other matches the effort with snide rapid-fire sarcasm.  Then we go toe to toe, matching volume, hand-gestures, eye-rolling, mocking, name-calling and smug dismissal of each others' perspective.  Then I go smoke cigarettes and he eats Vienna sausages and we meet up later to laugh about the crazy shit we said.  It's pretty awesome.  Like, legit.

But I spoke the truth today.  Jonas has never once said "Hey, I just want you to know that I care about you, and that if you need me just call me and I'll be there."  He never calls to check on me or asks how I'm doing.  When I hung up with my dad I felt a sting in my heart parts because I can't remember the last time Jonas said "I love you" first.  I stewed in that for a good 5 hours at work.  Mulling over in my head all the awesome things Jonas never says.  "You look great!"  "Dinner was delicious."  "I'm proud of you/your work/your painting/the Christmas tree."  Nope.  I get the pleasure of hearing crap like "Your head is massive."  "It's chicken, you really can't fuck that up."  "Babe I don't give a shit about what happens at your work."  Like, legit.

What do you mean he sounds like an asshole?!?  Rubbish. (tehehe)  It's true.  He sounds like an asshole.  What's that other over-used phrase?  "Actions speak louder than words."  Yep.

So here I sit, smoking cigarettes at my gorgeous kitchen table while he eats aged cheddar in the bedroom (we're out of the sausages).  And I'm feeling that all-too-familiar sting in my heart parts.  This one's guilt.   When Jonas says "Your head is massive," he's usually stroking my hair and giving me this coy half-smile that sets off the butterflies in my stomach.  At dinner today when he said "It's chicken, you really can't fuck that up," he was headed to the stove for seconds.  And when he said "Babe I don't give a shit about what happens at your work," he meant it.  And I'm cool with that, because the last thing I want to hear about after my long day, is yours.  Like, legit.