Okay, just for posterity, I guess I should write down the text of yesterday's argument, and Wednesday's too.

Wednesday, I get home from work. I don't remember if Chris was home or not... I'm thinking he was. He intended to go out with Jerry and have fun. That's fine with me.

So, the schedule that will solve all of our problems (yes, that's meant sarcastically) hadn't been written out yet, so that meant I needed to be punished. And of course he knows right where to hit me: the computer. He decides he's going to take the computer with him to Jerry's and lock up his so I can't use it. Naturally, I protest. He tells me I can have the computer back after I finish the schedule. I protest again.

My dialogue in this case really doesn't differ much from any other day. I tell him it's not acceptable to treat your wife like that, and I tell him that we should be seperated. Things aren't working out. I'm not going to take his abuse anymore. Etc., Etc. I am beginning to feel like a broken record, droning on and on and on.

Well, then he decides to take the memory out of the computer so I still have it, but can't use it. I tell him that's stupid and immature and that look, here I am, writing out the schedule. He doesn't care. I still need to be punished. He breaks the whiteboard I'm writing the schedule on, and then blames it on me. He threatens to break the computer, too. I sigh. I'm really fed up with this stuff. I tell him that if he does that, he can kiss me goodbye. He tells me to be out by the end of the weekend. I remind him that he wanted *me* to give him two weeks; can't I have two weeks as well? Of course not.

In the end, I win. I get the computer back. But two hours have passed with him yelling at me, and I'm really tired of the time involved here. I mean, in two hours, I could have had a bunch of things finished. Instead, it was 7:30pm and I was just starting, not to mention eating supper.

Argh. I should give him a bill for the amount of hours he spends wasting his time yelling at me.

So I call and talk to Mom after he left. And I tell her what happened. She says, "This is getting old." I say, "Yeah. He keeps jerking me around. "I want to make it work. I want you to leave."
Mom says, "You need to decide what you're going to do and do it. Discuss it with him if you can. If not... you might need a lawyer."
Me: "I'm still holding out for a simple, low-cost dissolution."
Mom: "That would be nice, wouldn't it? If worse comes to worse, this weekend we can get together with his parents, you, us, Chris, and tell him what's going to happen..."
Me: "It's not like either of us have enough money to screw each other with a high-priced lawyer."

She's right, though. Once I take the step of getting an apartment and signing a year lease, there will be no going back.

Wednesday night, Chris didn't come home. He didn't call, either. I assumed he had stayed over at Jerry's house, and this ended up being the case.

I woke up around 9am, and left a message on his voicemail around 9:30-9:45. Just politely inquiring where he was, and what time he would get home. Around 10am, he got home. I was (IIRC) folding laundry. And I get the silent treatment again.

"What movie did you see?" "A movie." "Oh." "How were the fireworks?" "Fine." Uh-huh.

He takes a shower, and then starts in on me again. He's still furious that I left him to go to Florida for two weeks. I'm too old to go on vacation with my family. (???!!!) They coddle me. They enable me. ("To do what? Be myself? That's a lot more than you do." I asked.) He's entitled to be pissed about me going to Florida and leaving him alone. Etc., etc. Every single person he has spoken to think it sucks that I went to Florida without him. Including his parents, his coworkers, his friends... ("Chris, if I really cared about what other people thought, I would be twenty pounds lighter, wear makeup, and color my hair. I wouldn't write; I'd do something respectable and safe." "Well, just look at you!" he says in derision. "You're no beauty queen yourself," I say.)

And for the record, if he wanted to go on vacation with his friends for a week or two without me, or with his parents, I wouldn't have any problems whatsoever. So I still don't see what the big deal is.

Oh, yeah, well... I know what the big deal is. He has a rejection complex. See, when he was little, his parents got divorced and his Dad moved with his sister to Mississippi, while Chris stayed with his Mom in Detroit. His mom was evidently not a really good parent, and let him run wild. She emotionally abandoned him, and he is afraid I will do the same.

Chris, dear, you are twenty-eight years old. You're not thirteen anymore. You're a grown-up. You can't expect me to spend every second of my day with you; and I shouldn't have to mother you and take care of you. You are not an infant.

I brought up separating again. I brought up the fact that August 1st is rapidly (well, kind of) approaching. I said I couldn't live like this anymore. He went downstairs to watch TV.

Later, while I'm picking up clothes from the bedroom, he comes into the bedroom and pushes me down on the bed. Now this isn't an angry push, but he still hasn't figured it out. Last week or so, "trying to be nice", he pushed me down on the bed and laid on top of me. I told him about personal space, and how that made me feel powerless. And I said I didn't like it when he did that, and that if he had laid down beside me on the bed, that would have been acceptable. So this was his concession to my words. Still a violation of personal space, though. I'm sorry; I don't like to be pushed anywhere.

So we're laying there, and he's holding me and it's kind of nice. Then he starts crying and says, "I don't want you to reject me like my mother did."
I say, "I'm not your mother, Chris."
Him: "I know."
Me: "And I can't live like this anymore."
He cries a bit more. I harden my heart. I've seen this before.
"I can't say I don't care for you."
Pause.
"But I can't live like this, Chris. I can't do it anymore. The stress is killing me."
Pause.
"Sometimes people get along better if they're living separately. I think that would be a good idea."
"I don't want you to reject me... I love you."
"I love you too, Chris, but I can't live like this anymore."

And then he gets mad because I don't want to get romantic. *sigh* I mean, think about it. Would getting pregnant exactly be in my best interests right now? Hell no. Later, he tells me he's not going to "take my rejection personally anymore."

We haven't really talked since then. I went to the cookout (where he was) and we went to a movie, but I kept the wall in place. He's either going to realize it's not going to work out, or he's going to be damned surprised when I'm not here anymore. I can't decide which.

Oh, yeah. If I leave, I get to take "Whatever I came here with." That does not include the computer, because (in his reasoning), I came with my old computer, which I'm welcome to take back. Okay... Yeah. It has no operating system on it anymore. Like I really want it back.

I don't get either of the TVs. I can "shove the DVD player up my ass sideways." (This was in reference to my point that I gave the DVD player to him as a gift, and did that mean I could take it back since he gave me the computer and now wants to take it back too?)

Again, I'm not all that worried about this. I can get another computer for cheap. Not a problem. And I don't really care about the TVs. But he just wants to screw me about the computer; and I'm not going to let him do that.

Argh. Anyway, those are the details.

More later, I'm sure.

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