Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Sorry Jude.

I feel sorry for my husband because I could never live with me. 

I know I'm not an easy person. So I started to think of all of the things that Jude has decided to endure until we both die (and I mean both, motherfucker), until the apocalypse, or until  he eventually kills me because I keep insisting that I don't like Person of Interest (Fine, I do.).

I am the dictionary definitions of many things:

High-strung, Type-A, Bipolar, Control-freak, etc, etc, etc...
I think that I know everything there is to know and I'm almost always wrong (but I will never admit it).
I'm tragically insecure, I internalize everything and I never let things go.  I'm perpetually annoyed by everything (and everyone) I come into contact with, mostly as some sort of crazy hermit defense mechanism. I worry. About everything. And nothing. And make-believe things. And mostly, things I have constructed for myself to worry about.

I over-think everything to death until I ruin it.

Or until I talk myself into being painfully awkward and then try to think about where I went wrong. And start a vicious Woody Allen-esque brain cycle, wherein I analyze how I went wrong over analyzing things. And I catalog all of my awkward attacks in a lock box in my brain. And recall them to memory whenever I start feeling good about things.

Remember that time you.... Oh God. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

I say about 99.9% of what I think without filtering it.

And usually, don't even know what I mean. Or why I'm crying. I am insanely closed-minded and stubborn. If you don't do something I ask within thirty seconds, I have already damned you to hell in my head and done it myself. I will insist on not liking something that Jude has tried to turn me on to for at least a couple weeks before I admit that I like it so I don't feel like I have lost my imaginary street cred (see Person of Interest above). I will listen to the same six Radiohead albums over and over and over again without ever agreeing to listen to anything else. They make up both the never ending soundtrack that I have blaring over the PA in my soul and cause me to bitch endlessly about listening to any other kind of music.
Why am I telling you all this?

Well, I felt like I owed him.... something.

For deciding that despite knowing that he would need to handle all of that, he was still going to love me more than anyone has or ever will love me.

And I love him more than any human creature/being/bag of flesh has ever loved anything on the earth or beyond the stars. And I always will.

....By the way, if you're reading this, Jude,  I broke one of your Marvel Pint glasses. It was the Captain America one......

Hope we cool now.

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