Faithful reader, you may remember that yesterday's post was entitled "Emily Gould and My Life, Because Everything is Really About My Life." That title comes from something that my husband always says to me when we fight. We will be in the rock-bottom depths of an argument, and I will shriek/sob something along the lines of "Well, it makes me feel XYZ." And my husband will say, "Right, because everything is really about your feelings." And there is just this twist to his voice when he says your feelings that is so inexpressibly infuriating and hurtful to me that, that, that, rrrrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAARRR!
It's something that really haunts me long after any given fight is over, because HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO RESPOND TO THAT? Because, yes, everything IS really about my feelings, sort of, right? I mean, at least for me it is! Especially if we're having a fight, because the very definition of a fight is two people advocating for their respective feelings about an issue! Right? Right! So yeah, screw it, it is really about my feelings! What's so bad about that? But, no matter how many times I reach this conclusion under non-fight circumstances, when we're back in the middle of a fight and my husband says "Right, because everything is really about your feelings," I always find myself sobbing desperately, "NOOOOOOOO! NOOOOOOOO! It's not about my fee-hee-hee-hee-lings! Don't say-hay-hay that anymore! It's not about my fee-hee-hee-hee-lings!"
I had no plans to write about this, but when I told my husband yesterday that I got the title for that post from that thing that he says to me, he laughed and hugged me and said, "Well, that's got to be another posting altogether!" And I guess he's right.