I went out of town this weekend, and I got back yesterday. I was tired, but I'd had a nice time seeing friends and enjoying nice weather.
He met me at the door. He's feeling pretty good now that his methadone dose is regulated, and so he's just a big old barrel full of happy. I'm glad he's feeling better. I really am. I hope this methadone business works. However, there's no methadone for me. I don't feel better. I feel as bad as I've ever felt. It was good getting away, but coming back home felt something like the way it must feel to be this poor kitty.
So he met me at the door, smiling, and he put his arms around me. It was nice, but I was aloof. He pulled me inside, and he sat me down on his lap and told me he had to tell me something. He wanted me to know that he used one day last week.
"I still didn't feel right. I couldn't stop thinking about it. I'm sorry. I feel better now. I had to tell you."
I know, I should be glad he's being honest. At the moment, though, I just didn't care. I don't care. I don't want to hear about it. I don't want his honesty if it's not good news. I don't want to hear any more about how he's feeling, what he's doing, what he's done, what he's going to do.
I want to see it. Show me. Show me good things.
He was very hurt that I wasn't thrilled with coming home to this cold, wet life, that I wasn't ecstatic that he'd scrounged up $30 to use but wasn't able to come up with a damn dime to help me pay bills or buy groceries, that the sheer miracle of his honesty wasn't enough. He didn't understand why I wasn't happy to see him.
It's just a mix, now, and I'm tired, tired, tired. I understand that it's hard for him to tell me the truth. I understand that this new, burgeoning truthfulness is an important step in the right direction. I am proud of him for it. But it doesn't make it stop hurting. It doesn't make this life more bearable right now.
He's not staying with me tonight, and maybe he won't stay here for a few days. I need some time and space for myself. I need him out of my line of sight so I can think about what I need, what I want. I'm tired of thinking about his feelings, his needs, his wants.