Change
I’ve a long history of choosing the worst possible romantic partners. There have been exceptions to this once in a while. But generally, I have had a talent for attracting the controlling and abusive.
This time is one of those exceptions. I’ve changed, and I’m not willing to settle for the controlling or abusive. I have managed not to be attracted to it, either. No more. Yar is, among other things, my proof of change.
He’s gentle, kind, generous, thoughtful, caring, giving. He’s smart and he’s funny and he’s creative. Considering my past, he’s almost too good to be true. And yet, he’s right there. He IS true.
We only had a few days together before he had to be back for the start of the semester. I managed to get sick the day after he arrived. I don’t mean a little light fever, either. I mean re-enacting scenes from The Exorcist sick. I could only keep down water, tea, and broth.
There were times in the past when I’d gotten sick while involved with someone. While I was expected to take care of the men in those past relationships if they were sick (no matter how major or minor their ailment was), this was not reciprocated. If I was sick, no matter how major or minor, I was supposed to bull ahead and keep going like nothing was wrong. I can remember being so sick I could barely get out of bed to get to the bathroom once upon a time. I certainly never made it into the kitchen to get something to eat. I didn’t have the energy. This lasted several days. The first night, after I’d called out of work and spent the day sleeping and unable to even get myself a snack or something to drink, the guy I was seeing grudgingly got me something to eat when he got home from work. The next day, I again didn’t eat or drink all day, because I couldn’t make it to the kitchen again. But when he got home from work, said guy was furious with me for not having dinner for him. It didn’t matter that I was so sick that I hadn’t even been able to get myself a glass of water to drink. He’d gotten dinner the night before, and it was my turn. He finally went out and got himself food, but nothing for me. He refused to even give me something to drink. I eventually managed to make it to the bathroom and fill up on water from the tap there, using my hands to drink because he’d removed even the cup normally left in there for brushing teeth. When I climbed back into bed, he tried to demand sex and was even more furious when I refused. It was like that for the next three days, until I’d recovered enough and was desperate enough that I could make it into the kitchen. I discovered that he’d eaten pretty much everything in there. My bank account was light and if I’d ordered a pizza delivered or some such, my rent check would have bounced. So I ate a few stale saltines and drank water.
That’s what I was used to when I was sick. Though if my partners were sick, I usually did everything I could to make them comfortable. The ones who did help me out if they were around when I was sick generally did it with much put-upon eyerolling.
This time was so different. I wish that I hadn’t gotten sick, so we could have done more than spend much of the time in the hotel room. But Yar fetched me tea and broth and water, comforted and cared for me. To him, that’s just how you treat someone for whom you care when they’re sick. But to me, with such a great contrast between my past experiences and this, it was something special and made me feel special. Simple as it was, since I’m a fairly undemanding patient, his patience and caring made me feel like something of a princess. I’m not accustomed to feeling like I’m being treated as a princess. Such a simple thing, but to me, amazing.
I’ve needed much Yar in my life for years. I just didn’t know that until the end of April/beginning of May. I certainly plan to have as much Yar in my life as possible in the future.
