It is impossible to have a reasonable argument with Ben. He is like the squeaky swing in our backyard: always altering opinions and sides and pointing out every little detail I might get wrong in my attempts to make a point. I start to feel so stupid and that he is bugging me on purpose even though I know that is not the case. I am not that good with words. Or I guess I am just slower and more considerate with what I say before I say it. And then the momentum is gone and he is long ahead of me.

On some days he is even like one of those crazy amusement rides. Except that I am not amused. I rather get dizzy from all the sudden twists and turns and then I get nauseous and throw up. I am frustrated with myself because I don’t know how to be in those conflicts that just seem to escape from my reach in each moment. I am sick of it.

Sometimes I feel that I would like to jump off, if you know what I mean. But then there always comes the day when we are both drunk as fuck in bed, covered in red wine stains, laughing at a joke I made up that no one else would understand and I feel smart and lovely and special. Ben really gets me but he also gets to me. So I’ll just settle for oiling the chains for now. Until next time.

3 April 2020