Monday, February 2, 2015

Sorry



And the cosmic dance goes round and round, the more you work to pull free from the endless cycle, the more the gravity pulls you back and you find yourself exactly back where you started.

'He' has a genius for catching me with my guard down.  The weekend was going well.  I was talking to him again.  And 'He' crashed into me again, bruising feelings.  And again I protested, that I had done nothing deserving that sarcastic, nasty voice.  Yes, I had said something twice.  But if someone says something twice, the appropriate thing is to say, "I heard you the first time.", in a calm voice.

He had decided that he was going to "re-season" my favorite cast iron dutch oven.  And in his eyes, in order to do it right it required that all (and I mean all) of the previous seasoning burned off.  He put it in the oven and turned on the cleaning cycle.  After nearly a whole day of the house being filled with smoke and the stench of burning grease, my pan turned from beautiful gleaming black to bright rusty red. I have had this particular pan for almost 40 years and to see it like that, triggered a lot of anxiety and I actually said twice, perhaps two hours apart as he sanded and washed and sanded and washed.  "You need to put some oil on it."    

Anyway he bit me and I, once again, pulled wayyyy way back, going all silent and freezing tense and icy still every time he touched me.  He demanded to know, "What is the matter with you." 

And in the spirit of at least trying to communicate, I tried.  I tried to explain that I was feeling a little bruised and distrustful of him when he unexpectedly yells and is sarcastic and cruel.  He responded that he did not "yell".  So seriously, if you raise your voice to twice, three times? as loud, but it is not the loudest you can go... it is not yelling.  Fuck me.  I answered, "and this is why we can't talk about things" and walked away.

About an hour later, he tried to make sexual overtures and I "did not feel good".  He looked a little confused and mumbled "sorry".

It was the first sorry I have gotten in years.  

Oh, and end the end, the pan was oiled and heated, and re-oiled and reheated.  It is once again a lovely gleaming black.

But, mannnnn, the house sure did stink there for a while. 

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