RC and I hit the slopes yesterday in some mountains about 3 hours away. He woke up with a headache, so I drove his stick-shift car, and he said that my driving would also give him a chance to catch up on some reading. Except the reading made him sick. We had gotten out of bed 1.5 hours later than I had wanted, and it was already going to be 10:30am by the time we got to the slopes; with us starving like mad, it looked like we would be lucky to get onto our first lift by 11:30.
I was made more annoyed by the fact that we woke up late because he turned off MY alarm clock before I could wake up, knowing full well that it takes a few minutes for the beeping to wake me up. Instead he fell back asleep; I heard no beeping, and miraculously, I woke up sometime around 6:30am, ready to hit the roof with him, but I held my temper, gathered our stuff and went out to the car.
Nevermind that he had a headache and didn't want to drive. Luckily for him, I enjoy driving, so I didn't pick too much of a fight despite feeling like I wanted to strangle him for the alarm clock thing. It's amazing how irrational I can be in the early morning.
About 30 miles or so from the resort, he alarmingly told me to pull over to the side of the road, opened the car door and vomited on the pavement. I popped the trunk, got a bottle of water, brought it around his side of the car, and found him some tissues to blow out his nose. Then we rolled down the windows for some fresh air and sat there until he felt better, then five minutes more. By then, it was 10:30 already, and we were still 30-40 minutes away.
After we made the turn-off, he asked me that when I get a chance, could I please pull over because he thinks he's going to be sick again. He then opened the car door a few times, but I guess stuff settled, so nothing more happened, and he said he really just wants to lay down. The back seats were down so that we could use the room and the trunk space to fit our boards, so he couldn't put his seat all the way back. So he asked if he could lay down and put his head in my lap. I said fine, even though it was now 11:30, and I really had to pee.
A walk in the woods later, I sat back down in the drivers' seat, he put his head in my lap, and I noticed that his eyes were wet. I wiped the tears away, kissed his forehead, and told him that everything is just fine, nothing to get upset about. I asked him what was wrong, but he never told me, but the tears opened up some kind of communication portal, and we talked a little bit about us.
He said that one of the reasons he had a headache in the morning (and has had one for the past week) is that he hasn't been sleeping well. It takes him an hour or more to fall asleep once he goes to bed. I've never had trouble sleeping, and I almost always fall asleep within minutes of laying down, so I'm sure my soundly sleeping next to him doesn't help his insomnia. At first, he was vague about why he can't seem to be falling asleep, then he said that he thinks it's because of all his anxiety.
"Anxiety?" I asked, "As in you're really worried about your exams?"
"No, my anxiety is from not knowing what will happen with us."
Turns out that he is really worried that he will at some point in the future, no longer love me. He thinks about my recent bouts of shortness-of-temper, and he doesn't know if over time, he will start to resent me for all of that. I told him not to worry about things that he has no control over, that he should focus on passing his exams at the end of this month, and we will work on "us" after that. Of course, I didn't tell him that this is why I haven't brought up any topics of us with him so far, but I guess my actions speak louder than words. I've never been very successful at controlling my temper.
I asked him if he regrets our having reversed the decision to break up while he was in Ctown. You would think I would remember his answer to that question, but I honestly don't, which makes me think that perhaps he didn't give a straight answer.
My motivation for asking that question was to, effectively, have him to bring up the subject of breaking up. Is that weird? I feel guilty that I no longer want to be with him, but I don't want to bring it up; I want him to think it was his idea all along so that I can feel less guilty.
Some 5 hours later, after a half day on the slopes, we were happy and joking and having a great time on the drive back. We had a great day on the mountain, which put both of us in great moods. I remember thinking distinctively at one point that when things are good, they are really good.
It's just that they're so seldom good anymore. Already this morning, the high of yesterday afternoon and evening was gone. When he ran his hands down my arms and legs, I rolled over and said that I wasn't in the mood. Then I fell asleep, and when I woke up again, he had already left.
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