Our first major 'tiff' between BFL and I happened last week. We have, as I have previously written about, been on a path of trying to make the decision whether to stay or move. Hence the property search, the property agents and the valuers trooping in and out of the flat.
It's not exactly the most pleasant having strangers trooping through your inner sanctum assessing the value of the place. But needs must. And after all that, BFL tells me to send him an email with my findings. An email?!
Shall I contact his secretary while I'm at it?
Who does he bloody think he is ...?
I was livid. Yet, I felt at odds feeling the way I did. I've always in my former habit simply bit my lip and swallowed the hurt. Which tends to turn to bitterness after a while. Not a good thing...
This time around, I went silent. In spite of the tirade screaming in my head. I was trying to make sense of how I felt. But raging emotions as tumultous as they may be tells us much of what is. I soon found myself in tears. I was angry. And he although he felt it he didn't quite know what was bothering me exactly. Prodded he did, but I didn't let him in on it until the wee hours of the morning. By that time he was desperate.
It was admittedly a relief to the two of us. To him particularly to understand what happened and why I felt and behaved the way I did. I also know he meant well. He sometimes does forget to be diplomatic about things. And now that it's all out in the open we're able to forgive, work on being on the same page and move on.
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