Never Wake A Bleeding Bear

*Warning this post not only uses obscenities, it graphically depicts menstrual bleeding. Yes, I am talking about Aunt Flo. Get over it.

I think Mr. Perfect and I broke up again. We do this quite often, it lasts, on average, 4 hours and then we text each other. Neither of us have friends and we need each other. I think it's because we don't know how unmarried people fight. We are so used to wanting a divorce from other people for so long that when we bicker we just decide we're out. We go from being madly and insanely in love and licking each others' faces to suspiciously eyeing each other, looking for signs we are starting down the SAME OLD ROAD. I basically look for any sign that he is ignoring me and generally disinterested in a life with me and he glares waiting for me to turn into a high strung, judgmental bitch. Again, a 23 combined years of bad marital habits. And neither of us ARE GOING TO LET SOMEBODY TREAT US LIKE THAT AGAIN. Lol. Let me stress 96% of the time we are so dramatically in love we make people want to puke. And the other 4% of the time we are like last night.

*Warning to Mr. Perfect: One: You are going to be mad I called you Mr. Perfect. Two: You are going to be mad I'm blogging about you. Get over it.

Let me preface, this month I am bleeding like I am miscarrying triplet elephant fetuses. It's ridiculous. I had to go to the store and buy the big pads. I specifically looked at all the little drawings on the front and made sure I had the largest one. Overnight, super, with wings, complex irrigation channels and blue lines that resembled a computer motherboard. That bad.

Mr. P works midnights an hour and half away. Our time together is VERY scheduled and never during the week. So when my phone went off at 2 am on Wednesday morning, waking me from a dead sleep, I assumed he was butt dialing me as he drove home. When I heard my downstairs door open and heard my phone ring again, I thought only 'I am NOT waking up.' Then I realized, 'What the fuck!! Its a surprise ambush!' He walked into my room, apologizing to me, explaining he missed me and to please just go back to sleep. I could only think this:

1. I didn't flush the toilet. There could be sharks circling my apartment.

2. It was garbage day and I hadn't put new bags in the trash can so I KNEW I had 2 giant bloody children's mattress sized pads rolled up with toilet paper on my counter.

3. I had recently cleaned my car out by unloading its contents into garbage bags. I had, the night before, dumped said garbage bags out, all over the family room floor looking for a shoe.

4. I had 4 loads of dirty laundry in every corner of my house.

5. I was sweaty. Topless. Wearing a 16 inch sanitary napkin, inside ripped granny panties and two pairs of sweatpants over them, for "just in case". I had half of my hair in a dirty ponytail on the top of my head.

5. I hadn't brushed my teeth.

Now, my house is NEVER clean and Mr. P knows that. And I'm OK with some exposure. Even though he is a clean freak who makes his bed when he gets up to pee in the night. But there are some moments, for us normal people, where we wouldn't let the firemen in if there was a fire. And at that moment, my house was in that state. So I immediately reacted. I jumped up. I ran to the bathroom and began cleaning the blood off my toilet. I pushed the clothes into a pile. I changed into a 10 inch pad and took off one pair of pants. I crawled into bed with him and closed my eyes, hoping the tension that hung over us with suffocate me so that I would pass out and he would think I was sleeping. But all I could think was this:

1. I am going to leave for work at 7:30 and he is going to still sleep. And he is then going to wake up and be all alone in this house that he is absolutely not allowed to look at.

2. What if he tries to touch me?

I was panicked. And wide awake. So I did what I do when I wake up at 3 in the morning. I grabbed my phone, hoping a quick game of scramble with friends would clear my mind. I told the ceiling "I can't sleep!" and started round 2 of a game. It was the 2:00 minutes of word searching I hoped would turn off my brain. With 1:48 seconds to go, he started talking. I couldn't respond, because I am terribly competitive and just needed him to wait 1:48. I could sense he was getting up, but I was not willing to pause the game and lose the visual on the words I was finding. I could hear him going on and on about what a mistake it was to come and how he was sorry to wake me and how I should just go back to sleep. But I could NOT respond. I hadn't really thought about what I felt and I had :12 on the clock.

"If you leave then I'm going to be mad you came and be up worrying about you driving home, I think you should just wait." I sputtered out as my score was tallying. But it was too late. He had taken my bad breath as a sign I didn't love him and my panicked silence as rejection. He was already out the door. So now he had woken me up, walked out while I was talking and abandoned me, all in twenty minutes. Even my kids know NEVER TO WAKE ME, unless there is a fire, but only if there is a fire AND the house is clean. I was thinking one thing:

1. HE HAD BETTER TURN AROUND AND COME BACK

After all, a hero would turn around. I was pretty certain I wanted him to go home, but that wasn't the point. I hadn't had time to reach that decision. Which made me feel horrifically powerless. So I started texting him. He kept telling me to go to sleep. I kept telling him to stop telling me what to do. And so I did what I do when I am pissed, I started swearing PROFUSELY. For the next hour I became a vicious psychopath. We ended with him saying he was done. Actually, he said "I'm done." And I said, in my prophetically, over dramatic way, "The EGO IS a very powerful thing." And that was it.

But I don't hold myself accountable for anything I say between midnight and 7 am. Or when I'm on my period. Or the week leading up to my period. So I think we're really OK. I know this will all blow over. Because we are madly in love. RIGHT?!

Until he reads this post.... :)