In my head I’m trying to use my words. You are on open side of a table with him.
In my head I can see his face across from me; smug and self righteous. Ready for a fight, ready to smash. Not ready to listen or converse or meet in the middle. I’ve been across that table with him more than I should have been.
How many times have you sat across from him at the table.
It’s not me holding a grudge. That minimizes everything. It’s not a grudge. It’s self preservation. Which sounds like I’m in flight mode. Like I’m the victim.
He didn’t do this to me or to you. He did this to himself.
You can’t argue with someone who says they’re standing up for their own self respect.
You can minimize my feelings and actions by saying it’s a grudge. But years of this is a pattern of behavior. You are minimizing my feelings to validate his abusive actions. You did this in 2011 by saying being in meetings reminded me of the cult.
The terrible thing is…I believed you for a minute. I listened and thought yeah. That’s probably why I was so upset. Why would I get so upset at someone berating me for leaving my clothes in the dryer or forgetting to take the trash out.
But it was more than that.
It was his face across the table speaking to me so hatefully. Forcing me to sit down and listen to him while he berated me. You didn’t say a word as I sat and cried.
Our bodies remember. Call it a grudge. Say “you know how he can be.” And “he’s stressed about work.”
I feel you tiptoe around him, your body tense. I hear your voice change over the phone. The plans we were making all changed when he wanted to shop for a washing machine. Not a glance at me to see if it was okay with me. Somehow I knew I was supposed to go along with it.
Always go along with it. Don’t make waves. Don’t upset them.
We shared a mother, her own tiptoes and tones changing as the sun sank.
I’ll be the funny one. You be the doting one to tend his ego.
Grudge grudge.
You tried standing up for me. You tried explaining to him. Begged. Your voice high, pleading. He bulldozed you. Ran right over your words and sorries and stops.
He wouldn’t listen.
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