"Cry Fucking" 

Last year in an entry I dated "May" in the little journal I have at the cottage, I wrote about Aa's coming over that night. I don't remember him doing so but apparently he'd made this date to make up for an earlier one he'd blown off (🤷🏻‍♀️) so maybe he was doing that again so I ate the cheese (🤷🏻‍♀️) but he was lost. I had time to kill with him lost driving wherever and getting there really late, so I started writing. Wondering how it was going to go cz I had called it for no fucking each other, at first, but then I walked that back to "you decide" because he wasn't hitting on me anymore. The hitting on me had been the prior November, this was May. I dunno why he's coming to meet me and my guess is neither does he. 

my conclusion

"Our essential dynamic." I illicit his feelings, and then I respond to whatever those are. 

I'm not sure that description is correct from his perspective. 

But there's enough truth in it - so, doesn't much matter why TODAY he needs to cry - there are so many reasons why, he might never run out even if from this moment forward everything got easier. I illicit those tears. And every time we see each other, despite chilling me so far out that I am IN SPACE COLD, as soon as he's within striking distance, his body wraps around me like Iron Man's suit or some shit.

So that's it (?) A little different each instance but the new normal has been, through every changing divorcing job kid sick ptsd reason: fucking + crying while trying to not to do at least one of those things. 

I could write that as something two people would do on purpose versus trying not to (recoiling).  Cry fucking. And see how "she" feels about it that way.

It won't matter going forward. She'll still gotta be done with how he discards. This cannot be her love life. But. She had way more tenderness in her tank than she imagined at the start. 

Maybe once I can get to the cottage again, I'll write that. And put the funny plumbersass bit in the story for comic relief.