The Game

If one person in a relationship continually pretends like everything is just fine when things are really troubled.  If one person continually refuses to acknowledge a need to live differently.  If one person behaves as if a fight never occurred.  Then everyone is really in trouble.  Because life becomes a game.  And nobody is going to win.  The basis of everything becomes false.  I'm there.  He doesn't come home until hours after he says he'll be home.  I don't care.  I don't come home, he acts like it is a personal thing.  I wouldn't cheat on him.  No interest in jumping into some other relationship with my hurting, whimpering, needing to heal self.  I want time to get back on my feet.  To feel better.  He will need someone.  He has a hard time doing things on his own.  He's really smart.  He's able.  But, if he decides all on his own and it's a failure, he has trouble handling that.  Maybe it's his competitive nature.
What's funny is that for a wedding gift, I gave him games and toys.  Stuff to play.  And, for awhile, I thought that it would be fun.  It didn't really last long.  Winning means too much to him.  I knew it when he played a five year old in checkers and didn't know that he should go easy.  Or basketball with an 11 year old who he made cry.  More than once.  That's how life has been.  Kids cry because he is harshly competitive.  We have fought over it ad nauseum.  I don't play games with him much anymore.  That's ok, he doesn't consider me a worthy opponent since he knows that I will throw a game just for the heck of it. 
But, games are one thing.  Being competitive is good.  In the right venue.  But, when life becomes a competition....that is wrong.  And it hurts.  So, I am refusing to play the game.  Won't compete.  Won't play the game.  And it's frustrating to play the game by himself.  But, he is still trying.  Acting like all is ok.  Or making a once every couple of weeks attempt at badgering.  Nope.  I refuse.  To fight.  To play.  To behave as if what has happened is ok.  It is not ok.  Life is not a game.  And my heart isn't something to mess with.  So there.  ha. 
It is peculiar how the game becomes intricate with rules of its own and lasts through the years.  It's like a monopoly game on steroids.  Each one trying to land in the right space.  Trying not to owe too much.  You know, all I ever wanted was just to walk with someone else peacefully and with delight.  Because life is delightful.  Life is good. 
But when I tell him how I feel, he makes it part of the game.  A game of changing the words around.  Switching meaning.  And I cringe.  Maybe I am a heartless b****.  I truly don't want to be.  But, if the shoe fits?  One of my first clues that something was really wrong was when I realized that being with him makes me not only doubt myself but feel badly about myself.  Seems like the one who is supposed to love you most would make you feel good about yourself.  But he takes delight in making me feel badly about me.  About how I was raised.  Finally I told him that my family was an acknowledged dysfunctional family....but that his was in denial.  So that while I knew and understood my baggage, he acts like he has none.  snort.  Right.  Sure.  Yet another game. 
Games should be chosen carefully to play.  And they should never be in relationships.