Monday, May 31, 2010

I feel like I don't matter.

Boyfriend and I agreed that we would see Letters to Juliet when it came out. He picked the last movie we saw, which was Kick Ass, and while I enjoyed it, it was a little gory and violent for my taste. Since we alternate movies, I picked Letters, but Boyfriend kept putting it off. He finally agreed to see it Friday, but it was no longer showing at the Drafthouse. For those of you who don't live in Texas, the Alamo Drafthouse is the only RIGHT way to see a movie.

Since it was no longer showing, he grudgingly allowed my alternative: Sex and the City 2. We were going to see it last night. But when he came home from work he pouted and insisted that I just LOOK at the movies playing at the Drafthouse to see if there was maybe something playing I was interested in. So I looked and found that Robin Hood was playing at 6:45, and Sex and the City was playing at 6:30. I told Boyfriend the times for both, then I told him I was buying the tickets for Eclipse's midnight release and that we could go see Robin Hood instead but he had to go to the Eclipse showing with me.

He agreed. So we get to the Drafthouse at 6:15 and the girl behind the window informs us that Robin Hood is sold out. And I start laughing so hard because it's just funny. Karma? Fate? Destiny? Kismet? I wasn't sure what it was, but it felt very good. I told the girl we wanted tickets for Sex and the City instead and she smiled. Boyfriend looked absolutely miserable.

And so we went to see Sex and the City. Boyfriend was far from the only man in the room. Other men had been dragged in by girlfriends and wives, but he was the only one who refused to laugh. I heard male laughter two or three times during the movie. Boyfriend downed three beers and closed his eyes and made irritated noises the entire time.

It kind of hurt my feelings. I TRIED for Robin Hood. If he had been like me and had just purchased his tickets ahead of time online we would have been able to see Robin Hood. But he insisted that it wasn't necessary, that it would be fine on a Sunday for Memorial Day weekend to show up to an action movie and expect to get in. It was entirely his fault, and he just acted like a thwarted child the entire movie, and then when we left he complained about how it was ten times more awful than the first Sex and the City movie.

You know, we watch his stupid westerns all of the time, and even though I hate gun fights and I hate John Wayne, I don't complain about his movies. I just cuddle up to him and watch and enjoy the costumes, if nothing else. Sometimes I like the movies, like Tombstone, but mostly I think they're boring and bad. But he can't extend the same courtesy to me. It makes me feel like I'm the only one that cares, and if I tell him at any time he's hurt my feelings, he doesn't apologize. He says, "Oh well, you'll get over it," and if I push the issue he screams and yells and then ignores me for the next three days or until I apologize to him.

Apologize? For what? For having feelings? For saying that he hurt them?

Sometimes I want to leave him. But every time I think of packing my things and taking off, I remember all of the sweet times that far outnumber the bad times, and I know that I love him, so I stay.

But the thought pops up every now and again.

I could just leave. And would he miss me?

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