what it feels like to be invisible

So, got to spend Kat's birthday with her. I started making her an apron. I also got the stuff to make aprons for work. Teri told me before if I'd make them she'd buy them from my company. So, I started practicing with Kat's.

My day actually went fairly well for the first time in what feels like forever. I spent the day with Kat. I crafted. I made a good dinner. I talked to John. I bought him a shirt he will look good in. I got a sweet email from him. We had plans to talk about what has been going on. He promised this time he'd be communicative.

John asked me yesterday for space. I gave it, although it pained me to do so because I worry and I'm not patient. He told me that's what he needed though, that he wanted the night to sort things out and that tonight we could talk as long as I needed to. I told him tonight would be hard with Kat here. He told me he'd wait.

I texted him to let him know what time they told me they were gonna leave. I texted him when they were here later than that. The first message got through. I called him a bit after that, his phone rang and I got voicemail. Well, that's not that odd, he never answers on the first time I call, his phone is never on him.

Then I call him back a minute later. His phone is off. Now no texts can get through. He's online. I try to talk to him on AIM. He signs off without saying a word to me. He's still on MSN. I try to talk to him there, too. Three sentences before he signs off there, too. This is beyond falling asleep, this feels purposeful.

I checked my email and there is this waiting for me:

I'm really thankful that you gave me space tonight. I know that it
hurt
you, but I needed it. After writing the blog, I feel much better. I'm

really looking forward to talking to you tomorrow. I want to let you
in and
tell you everything that I'm thinking.

He wrote that yesterday.

So, yeah. WTF.

I am exhausted and too too tired for this shit. I guess I'll go to bed. God only knows what the fuck my husband is doing. I'm glad I rate a fucking phone call. This is why I don't like putting issues off, because EVERY SINGLE FUCKING TIME we say we're going to talk about it "LATER" it means "I AM GOING TO PASS THIS OFF UNTIL YOU FORGET ABOUT IT RATHER THAN ACTUALLY TELL YOU WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON IN MY HEAD OR HEART."

I didn't even rate a text message saying "it's too late to talk, can't wait up to talk to you, need sleep, talk tomorrow".

It's great when I get shown my place in the grand scheme of things.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

FUCK.