It bothers me that I didn't ask Rebekah about her day. She calls me when she can't go to sleep; I have a way of taking her mind off of whatever it's trying to chew through. I talked about myself tonight. I think she wanted someone that would listen to her.
John and I were supposed to go to RMWC tonight to watch Signs, but he cancelled on me. When I called Rebekah to tell her, she didn't seem happy to hear from me. Our conversation was quick and I promptly went back to what I was doing afterward. I got the same impression from her when she called tonight: her voice felt cold.
When I talk about myself, it's often complaining. She must be tired of it. And it's not like I'm complaining about something new--these are the same things I've been dealing with since we met. Though I may feel it, I'm not helpless. Helplessness is easy. Making the right choice is the hard part.
When she calls late at night, we usually talk for at least twenty minutes. This conversation ended in five. She wasn't tired; she didn't want to talk to me anymore. After we hung up, I called back to explain that I wasn't asking for her pity or her understanding, I was trying to voice my frustration.
If I hadn't already called her once, I would call Rebekah and ask her about her day. Maybe then she could sleep.
