Making The CallPosted: August 20, 2009
I’m shaking as I dial the phone. My heart is racing and I can’t breathe. What will he say?
I go over in my head what I want to say, but I know once I start talking I’ll get it all wrong, like always, and he’ll get impatient. I need to stay calm, and not get emotional. I know that he’ll make me feel small and stupid, and even if he listens to me, he’ll twist my words and make me feel like I don’t know what I’m talking about. What will it cost me this time? How much will I have to give. It feels like that’s all I ever do – give and give and give.
I hate that I have to have this conversation. I hate that I need him to solve this. But most of all, I hate that I don’t trust him. I don’t trust anything he says. I don’t trust that he will really know what I need, how to fix this, but instead will just do whatever is easy for him, and then convince me that it’s the right thing. And I’ll go along with him, because I always do.
And things will be fine. For a while. I’ll be happy. For a while. And then something will happen, and we’ll be back to this. Me, needing him to fix it. Dependent. Unsure. I take another deep breath and exhale. And then I call the plumber.