Like a sieve

Maybe it's because I've always had such a good memory when it comes to things people say; it's called dialogue, and is a useful tool to have as a writer. Oftentimes, I'm able to write down a conversation I've had nearly word for word, sometimes as late as a few days after it's taken place. I pride myself on this skill, and am only now coming to terms with its downside: because I can remember what's been said to me, I now expect people to remember what I say to them.

I guess that's not so much to ask anyway: we all like to think that our lives and opinions hold some importance to the people we're close to; we all hope they're actually listening when we tell them things. But the fact of the matter is that Lui has a really selective, if not downright poor, memory, and I'm sick of him using it as an excuse.

Example: It took well over a year for him to actually register my dislike of being slobbered on. And we're not just talking accidentally sloppy kisses in the heat of the moment; we're talking downright licking me because the one episode of Sex & the City he remembers is the one where Charlotte is dating some face-licker, and he thinks it's funny.

A few nights ago, we had an argument to the effect of "you never listen to me," "yes I do, but I forget things." The apologies to this were actually rather cute. I asked him what he does remember that I tell him, and made him give example after example: "I know you like small dogs." "I know you don't like the word 'nasty.'" "I know you like kisses on the nose."

And then yesterday there was this misunderstanding, the details of which are too trivial to even post here, but the end of which was us talking in circles in the car on his way to work/drop me off at his Mum's house. And because I kept using the same argument, and he kept not getting my point and trying to tell me that it was my own fault I was upset, I eventually raised my voice for emphasis. I raised my voice a lot. I raised my voice so much, my throat still hurts 30 hours later.

"Don't scream at me, Elle," he said. "I've told you I don't like being screamed at."

To which I replied, "Sorry, I forgot."

As I got out of the car, I tried to apologize, but he wasn't ready to hear it yet. We both went about our days, apologies were eventually made via text message, and when he came to pick me up last night, everything was fine.

This is something nice about stability. I remember the days where I'd argue with Piano-Man (read: ex I want to hit in the face) and how I'd let whatever it was ruin my day/week/whatever until we'd "fixed" it. How I'd think that this was the end of the world, the relationship, my very life as I knew it. When I take it into account that all that anguish, nausea, loss of concentration, and melancholy are part of the "excitement and drama" I've been mourning, I start to think that the boring life isn't so bad after all.

But wait! I have another story!

I got an email last night, from my senior year roommate, Flower: a big stoner as long as I've known her, always a little spacey and a little flaky, now also engaged to the guy she was dating since before we lived together. This email said:

"hey girlie girl! wud up? well, my wedding is officially set for July 14, 2007...so mark your calendar!!!!!! Peace."

Um, hello? My wedding is the 7th of July, and has been officially set as such for months! She knew this! We've exchanged planning details before, and last I heard she was looking at September 07. Of course, the chances of her flying across the country for my wedding have always been slim, and theoretically our mutual friends could attend both (if not, I've already claimed C-List, and obviously Sunshine, who is my maid of honor), so really the only change here is that I now can't go to her wedding. But still! I would expect her to take my date into account when choosing hers, and truth be told, I kind of hate her right now. And her goddamn drug habit.

Somehow, this incident, much more than my fight with Lui, felt like one of those world-ending dramas from my Piano-Man days. Which is just fine with me.