So expanding upon being a passive aggressive bitch and being cool.
I have been cool... distant. I like that word distant.
Once a long, long time ago I heard, or read, or dreamed this thing about emotional distance in relationships. There is this concept that each person in a relationship is comfortable with a certain emotional distance... some people need more, some people need less and in each relationship an agreed upon (either openly or tacitly) distance exists. And if one person in this little game moves too close the other naturally backs away.
It is a dance, a cosmic dance with two hearts revolving around each other, a binary system, each drawn to the other, irresistibly attracted by love and desire; yet simultaneously trying to leave orbit for fear of crashing too hard against the other, kept at a safe distance by our own momentum and fears.
In most relationships there is a pursuer and a retreater. I do know that when I withdraw 'He' pursues. In the old D/s relationship he would have been all over me, physically intrusive but now, lately he has been disturbingly affectionate. I have been on the receiving end of so many forehead kisses that I am feel a little sticky. All unexpected, blindsiding nasty sarcasm has vanished.
I don't like it.
The whole dynamic, him being obliviously callous leading to me withdrawing causing him to pursue feels horribly manipulative.
I would love to be able to talk, to tell him how I feel but it has never worked, never ever once. Trying to talk to him about how his behavior impacts my feelings is disastrous. He denies that he did it. He argues that I do not feel the way I feel. He has in the heat of the moment, for the sheer sake of winning an argument has gone so far as to say he does not care how I feel.
I would love it, if when he says something that hurts me, I could say ouch and he would say, "oops" and maybe even a "sorry" and then we could move on. Because 99% of the time it is such small shit that I wouldn't even remember it for more that the minute it took to happen.
But his unholy love of arguing makes communication into a freaking minefield.
If we could have a D/s relationship he could just declare what the rule is. "Every Tuesday morning thou shall wash the garbage can with bleach and dry it manually with three paper towels. Or, "I have decided that from now on you will not put any wet garbage in the garbage can ever again." Clear, clear expectations. Then if I failed to meet these expectations and he barked at me with that nasty, sarcastic tone, I would know that he intended to hurt me, to punish me, correct me. And within the D/s dynamic, I would want that, want to be held to a standard.
But it is not a D/s relationship, and not once during the years of trying so hard to make it happen he never once stated his rules, his expectations. Not once.