or Sometimes You Just Need to Vent
“Did you ever notice you never finish anything you start?”
She looks over her shoulder at a dusty, half-finished dress and returns her gaze to me.
“Besides that dress. Not what I was talking about. But that too. It makes the dining room look messy.”
“You know I’ve been down lately.”
“Yeah, I know. You hate your job. I know. So look for a new one?”
She flops over onto her back, resting her head on the arm of the couch and stares at the ceiling. A bad sign.
“I look almost every day.”
“And nothing?” I ask. I feel more like a parent than a lover, a huge turnoff.
She sits up again. Here comes the subject change.
“I need a car. My new goal is to save up for a car.”
“Um, you barely make your half of the rent now and it’s always late. Where will you get money for a car? Or insurance?”
“I’ll work more. Get more hours or something.”
“And school? Last week you said you wanted to go back to school. We’re already getting attacked by annoying reps from schools, not to mention the mailers.”
“I’ll have to put that off for a while.”
“Like the dress. And your blog. And becoming a vegetarian, remember that one? You brought home steak the second night. And everything else you start.”
She flops back down onto her back. Ceiling again.
“What kind of car should I get?”
I want to scream.
“Are you happy?”
She actually turns and looks at me.
“What do you mean? What makes you happy? What makes you get up in the morning?”
I can’t take this.
She thinks about it.
“Well I think you need to make yourself happy. And stop depending on me for all your happiness. I can’t take it.”
“Well it’s not like I have lots of friends here to go out with. I just moved here.”
A year ago.
“A year ago. A whole year. Do you even try?”
She folded her arms like a child and frowned. I can’t take it anymore.
“We need to talk.”