I really did try to get out the door without losing my cool. Unfortunately, I had to look at him before leaving. He asked, “Are you crying?” when he saw my eyes, and I just lost it. I couldn’t say anything without starting to cry, and I felt like a real manipulative bitch. Because I knew that if he knew how upset I was, then he would go with me to the reading, which he did. But I had no real reason to be so upset, and I knew it. When he said that he thought it wasn’t a big deal because I wasn’t reading, he was right, and I am an asshole for making it a big deal.
What it came down to was just a need for him to be there because so often I feel alone enough when I go to these things myself. And it would be nice if every once in awhile, I wouldn’t have to ask him to keep me company, to just be there, with me and for me.
And I know he was miserable, hungry and tired. And I know he probably didn’t have any fun at all. But it really did mean the world to me that he came along, although I will spend all week making up for the way I went about getting him there. I still feel shitty about it. Especially now that I’m not as much of an emotional wreck as I was yesterday. So this afternoon, I will grocery shop and clean the bathroom. Tonight, I will cook and let him watch football or wrestling or whatever his heart desires. I might apologize once more, later, and thank him again for putting up with all of this, but from here, we move forward.