Relationships are a lot of work. I’m not used to this. But I’m trying. We’re trying. Monday I was ready to call it quits, frustrations building sky high and the feeling of struggling alone were devouring me. Then I did something. Something so simple. Something that I didn’t think about before, because I mean he should pay better attention and know what’s going on. He should be able to see the wrinkles forming on my forehead as I’m catching this attitude. How can he not notice the body language change and the atmosphere grow cold? He should know… It was so simple what I did. I opened my mouth and I communicated my frustrations and the stresses. I could breathe. He listened. Communication works both ways. We are still working. My love language is physical touch , I explained. Soft, intimate moments/movements. We have to continue to figure out his. Men are reluctant to admit when there’s a problem. I’m struggling. He knows. He’s aware. He’s scared. Because sometimes when it’s too much for a person, they leave. We are working towards a better us. It’s hard. The investment into something so fragile is what terrifies me. Right down to the core. I panic. I can’t breathe. If things go wrong and I lose myself, do I have another couple years to search for myself, again? Do I have time to spare to rebuild the woman I love and hold so dear? If things go wrong…. But what if things go right? Relationships are hard work. Work I didn’t think I wanted to commit myself to. Looking outside of myself, focusing on the bigger picture. I am learning to be a better person/communicator/ woman for this man. I need to see the same effort. I hope the change in me inspires the change in him. Have a good night everyone.
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