Monte

It’s a strange day. I’ve come home after spending the night at James’ new apartment, and my own house now seems uncomfortably quiet. The car ride home was quiet, too. Everything is quiet, and I’m feeling too unmotivated to find something to do that would interrupt the silence.

James and I argued for most of the day yesterday, which I’m afraid is becoming the norm. But it was my fault, I’ll admit. I got upset because I had made us dinner but we didn’t have time to eat it because we had to leave to go to a Sia concert at the House of Blues. So I bitched and moaned and pretended like everything was James’ fault, which I often do. But of course it wasn’t. It was just me being a touchy ass. I should have known we wouldn’t have had time to eat.

I got upset again after the concert because we had to immediately go out with friends to a club, and we still hadn’t eaten the dinner I made. But again, I new of the plans well in advance, so I had no reason to be a bitch about it. I huffed and puffed and made a big deal about it, again making James feels guilty for no good reason causing him to needlessly apologize.

And then on the train ride back to his apartment, James told me I’m a “buzz kill.” This came as a surprise. I’ve been accused of being a lot of things—stubborn, clingy, anti-social, etc.) but never of being a wet blanket.

James clarified: I had complained about the other people on the train earlier, I had complained about the price of souvenirs at the concert, complained about the police and staffing, the seating arrangements, the noise, and pretty much everything else that evening. And I’m always criticizing James: what he eats, how he drives, his messiness, etc.

And then last night when we went out with friends to a club, we had to leave early because I was falling asleep.

It’s true. I’m Debbie Downer.

This morning, when we both awoke, I apologized and we made love. But I still feel so awful. I’m going to make an effort to be better to him. He deserves to be treated better.