I laid in bed with my back to the open bedroom door. The other side of the bed had remained empty as I slept, for weeks. Our schedules were opposite each other, or that's what I told myself. Even though I knew it wasn't entirely the truth. Sure, I had class twice a week in the morning, but I got to set my own hours at work-- hours that I specifically chose to be overnight-- when he would be working, as well. Yet somehow, we never had time together.
It shouldn't have surprised me that this day would be any different than the others: he came home with his phone blowing up with texts, poured himself some cereal, sat down on the couch, and fired up Grand Theft Auto. I could hear the staccato gunshots in the video game pepper the people on the sidewalks, tires squealing, people screaming... interrupted by his text notification every few seconds. It had been weeks since I had slept next to my boyfriend, my best friend, as this had become his daily post-work routine. This is how he would stay until I would get up for the day. Then he would go to bed.
I laid there for a while, listening to the maddening symphony coming from the living room. I fought back tears until I couldn't fight any more. I cried, because I missed the man that I loved. I cried because I felt like I was losing him. I cried because I was selfish. I cried because I knew the answer to the question I was ready to get up and ask. I dried my eyes and threw back the blankets.
Wrapped up in my soft bathrobe, I walked into the living room. He didn't glance up. I stood behind the couch for what felt like an eternity before he noticed me standing there and handed me a card, before focusing his attention back to his game. I read it, and just as easily afterward... he read the disappointment on my face. When he asked what was wrong, I lied and told him nothing. I said it was great, and walked it to the bedroom where I placed it on my dresser before sitting on the bed and crying once more.
I wiped my face and got dressed before walking back to the living room. I put my hand on his shoulder, and he subtly pulled away. I winced and pulled my arm back to my side. Back where it seemed to belong anymore.
"Are you coming with me today?" I asked.
Silence. Unless you count the noises coming from the television as his character was in the midst of a gang war. I didn't need an answer. His lack of one was answer enough. I walked to the bathroom and did my makeup. When I was finished, I asked again. This time, he answered. This time, he gave the response I expected, but wished he wouldn't give.
"I don't know... I worked all night, and you have to be at your mom's by noon. It's already after 8 and I need to sleep--"
"--you can sleep on the drive to my mom's. You can sleep on the way to Fort Wayne. You're not doing any of the driving. Sure, sleeping in a vehicle may not be ideal, but once we get back, you can sleep in a bed at my dad's while we visit him. I just want to spend time with you today-- it's my birthday," I interrupted.
"I think I am just going to stay home and sleep," he finally said.
I grabbed my scarf, my coat, and purse and walked out of the apartment. I made it to the edge of town before I realized that I forgot my brother's birthday card on the chair by the door and had to turn around. Cursing myself, I pounded on the steering wheel and hit the brakes before turning around and heading back.
When I walked in the door, he was still playing Grand Theft Auto. "So much for sleep," I thought, and walked out again. I cried the entire drive to my mom's.
I spent the day with my mom and my brother, whose birthday was two days before. We went to dinner, watched my brother sing, and had cake at his apartment before heading back to my mom's. It was late, and I had spent my day with people who mattered most, but I was ready to get home and relax and I still had a forty minute drive ahead of me.
When I got home, he was sitting on the couch. This time, he was playing a Madden game and he, again, didn't even look up. I slipped out of my coat and shoes and headed for the bedroom. I wanted nothing more than to just shower and go to bed at that point. I grabbed my bathrobe and went into the bathroom.
I stood in water that was almost too hot to tolerate. I cried. finally, I finished my shower and got out. I dried off and wrapped up in my robe. I went into the living room to tell him goodnight, which was more than I thought he deserved, and was confronted.
"I'm pissed," he told me, "that you're so mad that I didn't go with you today. You don't get to be mad, because I actually wanted to spend time with you today, but you chose to spend the whole day elsewhere."
I was stunned. I couldn't believe he actually just said those words. "You were given a choice this morning. You chose to stay home and 'sleep' which seemed a whole lot more like playing video games, instead of spending the day with me. It was MY birthday. If anyone here gets to be mad, it should be ME, for not getting to spend time with the man that I love on my birthday. Family is important to me, so I spent time with my family, but you know what? YOU are my family, too. And you chose not to spend time with me when I asked."
"I did sleep," he argued. "I went to bed right after you came back for your brother's card."
"The point is," I said, "you don't get to pick and choose when spending time with someone is important. If you love someone, that should be enough. You make sacrifices. Today, you didn't. That says it all."
We spend the rest of the evening on opposite ends of the couch. I went to bed without him. And much like the day started, I cried myself to sleep.
* * * * *
The day that I was born was six weeks too soon. My mother had come down with e-coli a month prior, almost killing both of us, and it was time for me to get out. When the placenta came out, it was black. Full of holes. Dead. The doctors told my parents there was no way it should have been able to sustain life. The illness had destroyed it. I shouldn't have lived. I spent the first two weeks of my life in the NICU with an IV in my head. Despite the complications, I was a healthy baby. A miracle.
Today, I turn another year older. Already, in the almost two hours that have passed of my birthday so far, it has been infinitely better than last year's. I am so blessed with amazing friends and family who have called and texted and reminded me that I am loved. Life is too short to live unhappy. To those of you who have helped light the way in my struggles over the past year, I can't tell you how much you mean to me. I thank each and every one of you for bringing happiness to me every day.
