I hate this. This silent thing where feelings are hurt, egos bruised, where we (I) retreat to our corners and silently live separate lives under the same roof. Marriage sucks today. It was better last week. It will probably be better next week, but today I am not amused.
I think it was Thoreau who said something like “People live lives of quiet desperation”. Well, not me. I may go through periods of desperation, but I refuse to be quiet about it. Not for long anyway.
As usual, it will be me who forces the conversation. Initiates the discussion about what’s really going on. Pushes for some kind of movement. Any movement as opposed to these stalled impasses. I will say, we need to talk about what’s going on, what’s really happening here? and here’s what I feel… and things will move in one direction or another. But I can deal with that.
So, soon I will say something. That’s what I do. Unexpressed thoughts, unformed words swell up in me until I become a toxic woman, bloated and distended, unrecognizable even to myself. Let’s talk it out, fight it out, work it out. And then move forward.
First Posted At Journey of a Grown up Black Woman