Lover’s angst …

November 11, 2009

kayleigh is acclimating to the new job, having traveled out of state twice in the past few weeks, and again next week for training.  When she returns from the training sessions she kicks into focus mode, doing required projects and tests.

Having gotten to ‘know’ the people she used to work with over the past many years in that weird ethereal way partners do when hearing the other partner talk about their coworkers, it’s a new experience to hear her talking an entirely new group of people.  There were always new names among new employees and trainees, but there was a core group where she worked that was always there.  Now, it’s all these new people, and I’m embarrassed (and irritated with myself) to find my insecurities flaring up more frequently.

We are very good at sharing our insecurities, thoughts, and various areas of  angst.  Misery loves company, I guess, and  as painful as those thoughts are to the other sometimes, we share them anyway.  And I know my thoughts and actions are more painful to her than her thoughts and actions are to me.   That makes me sad.  As much as I want to, and try as I do to protect and love her, sometimes I think I am her worst enemy.

A  few days ago I mentioned that whenever she mentions a new man’s name at work, I wonder if he will be the one to take her away from me.

She didn’t much like the comment, I guess, but we talked about it as we always do.  It’s always good to talk.

But for me, it was true.  And adding insult to injury  is that  as confident as I am in the strength of our relationship and our love for one another, I find it extraordinarily annoying to be equally insecure as I am confident, and almost at the same time!   What kind of screwed up dualistic thought process is that?!

My love for her has never wavered, not once, but let me tell you, insecurity and how it manifests itself sucks.  It colors everything even as I immediately try to wash it away.  Sometimes what I say and do seems almost calculated to push her away in a masochistic self-fulfilling prophecy, and that feeds the insecurity and scares the living shit out of me.

She’s told me hundreds of times that she’s lucky I’m a patient man.  But in spite of her ‘focus’ and the entertainment provided by some of her more obsessive quirks, I think she’s far more patient than I am.  Or stubborn as hell.   Thank goodness.

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