New month, plus ça change plus c’est la même chose. bK comes to my apartment in the morning, we exchange a curt greeting, depending on the day, strip, and then work out. All the while the elephant keeps watch brooding in the corner. I’m still pissed off and quiet. He’s still pissed that I’m detached and “moody”. We address none of it. Amazingly, all the anger amplifies rather than alleviates the sexual tension. A rational person might end all naked training days, but maybe sex would break the ice and provide some healing…
The only break in this routine occurs on the days that something happens (e.g., his friend’s passing) to remind us that normal friendships are not supposed to function this way. At those times we manage to have good/meaningful conversations – close to what we used to have before the tension, lies and resentment tainted everything.
And then the Lincoln debate…After the long weekend of romance and patriotism that is Valentine’s Day/Presidents’ Day 2013, bK tells me about a random encounter that he and his “friend of Caribbean descent” (February’s code for fiancée) recently had in a hotel elevator with a Caucasian lady. Apparently, this woman stepped into the elevator and, on finding herself solo with two Negroes in a confined space, took a moment, gathered herself and did what any reasonable person in that position would do: declared her approval of the president’s emancipation of the slaves at the end of Lincoln. Her comment really upset bK. (I partially suspect he was predisposed to be distressed because they had been discussing a friend’s battle with cancer, but I’m not a therapist.) The whole thing sounds to me like a misguided attempt at solidarity. Stupid, but more amusing than offensive. My reaction further upsets bK and we get into a heated discussion about slavery, the Emancipation Proclamation and Lincoln – a movie that neither one of us has seen. I’m not sure what is the most ridiculous: (1) that a stranger thought the way to connect with the two black people in her company was to express support for the ending of a movie (loosely based on history though it may be); (2) that bK was so deeply affected by something so foolish; or (3) that we got into a three-day debate over it because I had a different reaction.
Things just get worse as we get into back-to-back arguments about Prozac, cancelled training or massage days and just about every other topic we discuss. Each fight is short and stupid, but they are collectively draining.
NO massage this month. 😦