First Blog of 2011

Well readers, it's been a crazy week.

I worked 30 hours last week, and around all of that I managed to freak out about being engaged three times, hardly sleep, and find an amazing wedding dress.

The night before New Year's Eve Skyler and I got into a huge fight, and then he said something that seriously hurt my feelings.  Like, low blow hurt my feelings.  I bid him goodnight and went to bed, almost too angry to sleep, and certainly too angry to cry.  An hour later he texted me to apologize, telling me he loved me so much and that he can feel the adversary trying to come between us, but that just means our marriage is going to be "EPIC" (his words) and he can't wait to ring in the new year together.

I knew he meant what he said, but I also knew he meant what he said that hurt me so badly.  I eventually fell asleep, but I was wracked with horrible dreams and troubling feelings.  I was so hurt, and so upset.  I actually took off my ring and left it across the room from me.  I almost left it home when I had to work the next morning, but I was afraid of raising questions so I just grudgingly slid it on my hand and grinned and bore it.

It took me the better part of the day to finally text him back.  By then he had resigned to spending New Year's with his parents and listening to an audiobook.  I have to admit I smiled at the prospect of him having a lame night because he said something hurtful and drove me away.  I did eventually make plans with him that afternoon, and that night we got together with a couple of friends of ours.

I kept my coat on the better part of the night.  I felt so self conscious.  I couldn't hardly bring myself to look him in the eye.  I just kept looking out the window out into the night as we drove around, feeling the pain of those words still cutting me.

He kept confiding little secrets in me, laughing and carrying on, telling me how he initially planned to ask me to marry him, holding my hand, telling me little jokes, all while we were walking around First Night and freezing our butts off, and later at Denny's when we were warming up with some Hot Chocolate.

I eventually relaxed enough that I could spare a glance or two at him, and by the end of the night we were having a great time.  He even called me Mrs. Gubler.  It felt weird to hear him say that, but it was a good weird.  It was sweet.

We had a decent few days together, but he didn't want to hang out with me tonight.  I'm sort of glad too.  I just wanted a day where I wouldn't have to look in his eyes and see the "I love you, but..." in them.  I didn't want to feel his hands touch me.  Not tonight.  I didn't want to feel his lips kiss me, wondering what he was thinking when he closed his eyes and pulled me close to him.

I haven't forgiven him.  Not yet.

I'm going to figure it out, and we're going to make it, but right now, I'm still hurt.

Keep it real readers.