So now I wonder. When did it happen?

I've been rereading old entries from my blog. I think the perplexity is noticeable.... although I didn't have the courage to actually write about it until very recently.

As I say, I re read the old entries and I marvel at what's *not* in there. How much I tried not to say it, not to admit it, not to put it in the open.

I wish I'd said it. It might help me now to pinpoint when it was that I lost the faith in this. When it was that I saw for the first time that it wouldn't last forever.

Could it really be that we stopped growing when I stopped being sick? Which is about at the same time I stopped being a goddam mess. That I stopped being depressed, and so... what?

I stopped needing him then? I don't think so. I didn't feel the change there. If I recall correctly, I started feeling some things were askew about the time when we oficially moved in together... that'd be Feb 2002. More than a year before the surgery.

So when was it?

The first, or the last time he pushed me away in bed, saying that he wanted to watch some TV?

The hundredth time he pretended not to see me, or hear me telling him something?

Or the twentififth time he wouldn't go out with me, or declared the things I liked were really rather stupid?

When did it happen? When? I admitted it very recently, but I've known for longer. I wish I remembered when it happened. I think I deserve it to this relationship.