WYSIWYG. No, really.

I found my perfect remedy for a headache.  Soft pajamas, Excedrin, and Jacob massaging the back of my neck, while I rest my head in his lap.  Defeated a migraine in record time.

I couple of days later, I had a little mini-breakdown and became one of those high-maintenance women that I generally despise.  Jacob texts me right before going to sleep.  And I do mean right before.  When you get the "Goodnight" text, you have about 30 seconds before he is out and oblivious to the world.  The man can sleep like the dead, and it's something I find endearing, strangely enough.

Anyhow, that night he said something about crawling into his "cold and empty bed," wishing that we weren't apart.  Not sure why this hit me so hard, but my first reaction was guilt.  Later, I understood he was just communicating how he missed me, but my gut took a big Carl Lewis-sized leap over the boundary of reason.

Actually, as I'm writing this, I realize why it hit me so hard.  In the past, such words have been the precursor to a nasty surprise.  Old BF said it was leaving him alone like this that caused him to cheat on me.  I wasn't there, and he wanted a warm body, so....  Ranger had the same problem, except it was because of my bad back.  My pain in those last weeks before my surgery was so extreme that our sex life took a nose dive.  He sought to fill the gap with his roommate.

By the way, Ranger and I have had some "words" in the last couple of weeks.  Things that seriously pissed me off and told me that I was making the right decision.  In those conversations, I have mentioned that I never got the whole story from him on the roommate.  He never once disputes that and has pretty well confirmed that there's more to the story, and I'm not going to hear it.

One day, he threatened suicide and deliberately made sure I wouldn't be able to locate him for many hours.  Left his phone, his wallet, his keys, and an "I can't do this..." note, where he knew I'd see it.  I went by there to get the rest of my stuff that he had, and instead of being there to help me dig it out and haul it to the car, he left all of that for me to find.  I did the digging and hauling myself, causing a great deal of pain with the surgery site, and vowed not to play the game.  I did not go looking for him.  Instead, I thought about what to tell his children if he followed through on the threat.  He ended up emailing me later that night and told me where he went.  I would have been right, had I tried to find him. But I'm not playing that game.

But I digress....

I felt terrible about Jacob and his lonely nights.  See, as long as my daughter is at home, I will not go stay the night with him.  She has to be the priority, and I won't disappoint her.  He understands that.  Still, I felt terrible.  So, I apologized for it.  And I said, "I just hope you don't grow weary of this and decide I'm not worth the wait."

"Ouch," he said.  "It's all right. What makes you think such things?"

"It's happened before," I said.

"You shouldn't worry so much," he said.  "I do understand. It's just how it must be for now.  I Love you." (He capitalizes the word "Love" all the time, something else I find endearing.)

His "ouch" made me think, though, that this expression of my insecurities could come across as an insult to him.  It made me think more about my worries and how I express them.

To be true, I have a basket full of insecurities.  My romantic experiences have taught me that I am often...insufficient.  Or even deficient.  I fall short of what the men I love need.  That's happened so often that I now seem to be hardwired for those feelings. I'm trying with all my might to shake that, to become rewired.

Unlearning is hard, though.  It hurts in that it brings up past hurts.  For instance, Jacob and I usually text each other constantly when we're apart.  When he isn't answering me, the worry sets in.  If he's not talking to me, who is he talking to?  Why am I not important to talk to?

And I have the added bonus of my mother's attitudes in my head: "If I meant much to you, then you'd talk to me at your first chance."  Oh yeah.  I grew up hearing things like that.  Hardwired, I'm telling you.

Then my brain starts spinning on little details, obsessing on hidden meanings.  Like, he called me "Love" today, but not "my Love."  He doesn't want to be with me anymore.  Or I mentioned dinner, and he didn't answer.  He doesn't want us to have dinner together anymore.  It's an insane kneejerk reaction, and I'm generally able to unspin it in a little while.  I recognize it as unreasonable, so that's a good thing.

They are all old triggers, with their attached meanings.  So, they tromp through my head and my heart hurts, and I start unwinding myself.  Then, I get a message. With a picture in it.

He had been making a Lego rendition of me. Little things like that mean so much.

I'm doing better at keeping my rampant insecurities corralled. I'm still experiencing the kneejerk reactions that have been so deeply instilled in me, but his reactions teach me about better outcomes.  The kneejerk reactions don't have to be true, anymore.  He doesn't know how he is teaching me a different way, by just being who he is.

I'm adjusting to a relationship with someone who says, "What you see is what you get," and actually means it.  I am enjoying the sense of relief that comes in little stages, when the negative speak has learned to stand down.