Sometimes I manage to take my own advice.
So, things have been rough for Obi and I for the last couple of weeks. It went from really great to really crap in a matter of a couple of days, and most of it can be blamed on his work. Last night I cracked it a bit.

All the pressure from the stuff with the house, fear of having to move home without him, fear that he'll back out and wont actually move home with me, the constant lonelyness, feeling that my dream of writing full time is slipping away faster and faster, missing my family, guilt for leaving my family, wedding planning, the depression that comes and goes like a black cloud... Just everything... It was too much.

I warned him last night that there's a chance I wont be able to stay here til September. If this goes to court, I have to be there. He didn't even pretend like he'd do everything he could to follow me back as soon as possible. And that hurt, of course. Even though I know it'll likely take 6 months for his visa to be approved (which we haven't yet applied for) and he can't follow me, it'd be nice to think he'd try and make that a priority if I do end up on the other side of the ocean. Whatever, not holding a grudge.

So, he got in late, I fed him and we ran a few errands, then he looked at wedding stuff with me, like what the blokes will wear etc and that was really progressive - not for planning because I don't think we got anywhere - but because that strained him quite a bit and he realised if this one minor detail could be so hard what must Miriam be feeling planning the majority of everything else all alone? I appreciated that. And then it was 11pm and we knew we should be sleeping, so I decided we could skip the shower on the assumption that we weren't going to frolic anyway, and we crashed.

I can't remember the link between going to bed and starting to talk. But there must have been a link. I know we were both sad and angry at the situation. I think.. oh! I remember. I was crying. I cry a lot, so it's nothing to be alarmed about, that's just how my body reacts to basically any emotion. (Seriously, I cry when I'm angry and sad and frusterated, even sometimes when I'm happy or horny. I just cry a lot.) So I was crying. Just trying to go to sleep. It's rare he'll ask me to talk to him - it's always the other way around. But he wanted to, at the very least, have a good understanding of why I was so distressed.

Something I thought of at work really stuck with me. I just just thinking girly wedding crap - as you do when you're scrubbing dunnies - and I was thinking of how the ceremony should go, the elements I want and the ones I know he expects to be in there. I was thinking... Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, to love and to cherish, for bettter or for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?...

And the bit that got me was for better or for worse... as long as you both shall live. I wonder if people really think about what they are agreeing to on that one, but that's neither here nor there. Am I willing to agree to stay with this man no matter what, for the rest of my life?

Yes, I know divorce exists. I know marriages fall apart. I am not against divorce. But for me? I don't think I could do it. I once promised a man I'd never leave him. And, I hated my life with him, he made me miserable and ashamed, he drove my family away from me, wouldn't let me have friends, humiliated me in front of his own friends, abused me emotionally and threatened me and my family physically... and many other things. And that one promise, said in the middle of the night as a word of comfort, held me there for years. I was in geas. I could not leave. Years later he said "Why don't you leave then?" in the middle of an argument and I reminded him I couldn't because I promised I never would. He released me from my promise that night. He said those exact words - and then I was free.
So I know, if I am stupid enough to promise Obi the same thing, I will take it just as seriously. If he suggested a divorce, I might even be relieved if it got that far... If I was that unhappy. Because I don't think I could suggest it myself.
But, marriage is even worse than that. I'm going to tie my soul to his. I'm going to make an offering to my Gods and vow before them not to leave. That's the kind of shit I really do take seriously. I try not to get preachy, but nothing comes between my Gods and I. If I make them a promise... I don't know how I could break that.

Back to last night... He pushed me for a bit and I warned him it wasn't something he wanted to hear, but he insisted. He asked me why I was so sad.. I told him: I'm always so alone. It's like being single but with twice as much housework. I don't see you and when I do you're too tired or stressed to do anything with me anyway. You're just not interested. I never know when you're going to be here so I can't even look forward to when you come home. I can't plan anything. I always feel so unattractive, so unwanted.

I told him that I'm scared - petrified - that I'm going to marry him and then he'll make me miserable. Right then I felt quite a bit like the world was ending. I said " This isn't what I signed up for. I'm so miserable. I didn't give up everything to live in a place I don't like for someone I'm never going to see. It's not ok. What happens if I marry you? You'll just keep doing this and I wont be able to do anything about it because I can't leave, I can't even threaten to leave. I just have to put up with it and be miserable and it'll be a cycle that will never end." Or something pretty close to that.

He didn't say anything for a long time. He was so distressed it broke my heart. I wanted to take it all back, and I apologised, told him to forget about it. But he stopped me and told me that he needed to hear it, and that he was so distraught because I was right. So I just held him.

He told me how, when I first came to canada and he had to watch me fight through the six hellish months of depression and homesickness, when he saw how unhappy I was here, that all he wanted to do was say "We can live in Australia instead" but he couldn't "I'm not strong enough for that" he told me last night. I explained that whilst being in Canada does make it a lot harder, I wouldn't be ok with this even if it was in my country. If we were back home though at least I could pick up the phone and call Bec, or meet up with someone for coffee, or catch a train and just get out. I'd have a better support network and thus it would take me longer to crack it - but I still would crack it. I told him that before we take this any further he might consider finding himself a woman who's more suited to the lifestyle he wishes to lead. I don't want to break up with him, but he is my best friend and if I'm not what he needs then I can be man enough to handle that for his sake. And if he can't be what I need... well, we need to think of that too... before I take a vow to stay for better or worse.

He tried to defend himself and reassure me that really he does want me. I know without a doubt he loves me. But want? That's different. His words don't match his actions, and I told him that. I reminded him that he used to write me little notes, and he used to flirt with me... and now I can't even get a single dirty text in the middle of the day - not even occasionally. He's a good listener. He understood what I meant, and as soon as I said it he could see all the little things that were missing. He told me he loves the little cards I hide in his stuff, and that he thought the bunny and deer charms were a great idea when we were LD, and a bunch of other little things I do... And I'm so happy he actually notices! ... But he gets why I feel unwanted, neglected and very far down on his priority list.

We talked into the early hours, until we stopped crying, until we felt better. He told me he felt less stressed by the end of it. I told him I thought we'd just wasted a huge chunk of time because I doubt he'll do anything to make it better. He asked that I atleast give him the chance. I will. I don't have much of a choice.

We both have a lot of thinking left to do, and a lot of work I guess. And more talking. I have no regrets so far, and I want to keep it that way.