Allister Dean
It’s been a hot minute since my last post as I needed to work on bettering myself, and honestly, it was needed. But, taking that necessary time doesn’t stop there, it’s a continuous effort—if you’re single or not.
Real talk, the one area I haven’t worked on and lost along the way is major self-esteem, trust, and overall being a happy guy—so much so, my bad relationship habits from previous relationships have bled into my current engagement, leaving the man I absolutely love on the edge of ending it all. Why? Because I’m stupid, that’s why. [Not my finest moment.] And let me tell you, alcohol only makes matters ten times worse—this includes having his daughter witness how much of an imbalanced person I am. Sometimes, I want to do what Gordan Ramsey did to the chef during an episode of Hell’s Kitchen and place two loaves of bread over my ears and out loud call myself an “idiot sandwich” repeatedly.
In an evening, Will had expressed (more so a list) reasons why he’s on the edge and stressed out to the point that he doesn’t want to be around me.
- I bitch and nag about why he does do or doesn’t or just anything and everything.
- I’m never happy.
- I can never let go of things and drag them out.
- Trust is not my friend.
- I give him no space.
- Impatient.
- Constant validation.
- Clingy.
- Become rather violent when drinking. [That is hard to admit.]
The list goes on, but the point was severely made, and don’t blame him for feeling this way. Who wants to have a partner of this caliber? Hell, I don’t even want me as a partner. Looking back on last year, my behavior mirrors the list. When did I become this person? How did I allow myself to exert such horrible spouse behavior?
Understandably, people change over time, but not this drastically toxic. My demeanor and tone years prior used to be of the happy kind. So, I ask again, what happened?
Fear.
I’ve allowed fear to control my life. I’m constantly in fear of Will cheating on me, in fear I’m not good enough…no matter what fear clouds my mind, and like my partner has countlessly told me, “It’s getting old.”
It is getting old, real fast.
I’m tired of constantly worrying about things he’s never given a reason to. Prime example, comments on social media. I got so emotionally worked up over an innocent comment when logically I shouldn’t have. At the end of the day, we are together. It’s not like the guy he commented on is going to abruptly stop his life, board a plane, and try to start a life with him—that’s crazy talk. [I’ll cut a bitch just in case.] This is where I need to tell myself, “Trust him, he’s not the type who is going to allow it beyond the comment.” [Simple, right?] The time and energy used to bitch and cry could have prevented a fight.
So, something’s got to change and it’s not going to be him, it has to be me. Otherwise, I might as well start packing my shit and shop for an apartment, because the man is not having it any longer. Writing has always assisted me in getting my dwelling thoughts out of my head and onto paper (even if it’s digital).
We’re still in the new year, and it’s still plenty of time for me to leave behind my shitty behavior permanently, become a happier Allister, and fucking step up to the plate of not only being the spouse Will needs and deserves but also amazing step-parent to his kid. [Change is the New Black.] Cheesy as this sounds, if Carrie Bradshaw can manage to find love in New York City, I’m fucking sure as hell capable of achieveing this.
Starting with cutting way the fuck back on the wine for a good while.
