That choice on the poll was more a hint than a joke....we're going to Paris!

(No. Not forever. Alas.)

But just me and him, our first time away from Bear for more than 48 hours. Yes. We're going. For my birthday.

He says it is so, and I believe him. I need to.

For so long, we've teetered on the edge of falling apart. As my therapist said (the good one, not the pill guy I just fired) a relationship can not be so much for the benefit of only one person and remain whole.

It's not that I have martyred myself. I am not a victim. But I have made some bad choices. I put everything I had in a communal bucket, but it was taken out in unequal measures. And I allowed that. I allowed him to take, and I just kept giving.

And finally, it was enough. We were all sick with the unfairness and unhappiness that brought. So I drew the line some time back. It's been a battle for us to change our ways, but now, maybe, he's begun to see...

So we're going to Paris. And I will have new underwear.

Posted by: Elizabeth at 05:08 AM | Comments (16) | Add Comment
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