Deja Poo

After all this time I should know that talking more, talking less, talking louder, talking softer, talking slower, or talking faster will not change what my husband will hear. If he isn’t listening, or won’t listen, it’s all pointless.

Sometimes emails or text messages get through, but not always.

Most of us who deal on a regular basis with someone with Aspergers really do know this. I guess it’s just that I’m an eternal optimist. I keep thinking and hoping that communication with Steve will be normal at some point.

Perhaps others have had the same hope.

We do tend to go around and around on the same loop. I try to explain my viewpoint to Steve. He insists that he ‘understands’, he swears he will do better in the future.

He says that he loves me and respects me.

It just doesn’t feel like that when he challenges what I say, and does the exact things I ask him not to. When he turns off his listening ears and puts on his grumpy face.

Same old same old.

Then he asks if I’d just rather get a divorce.

Say what?

Why do people jump to the ‘D’ word whenever the going gets, well, uncomfortable. A bit rough. Not smooth. Bumpy. Awkward. Boring.

No, I think I shall just go to play games at a friend’s house, Dear. We shall dine on sushi, play a dice game, drink water/soda/coffee/wine, and laugh. And shout. And stomp, and scream and be thoroughly silly.

Now that’s a wonderful way to deal with unpleasantness.

I should be home by dawn.