It’s nearly 6pm and I’m struggling to come out of a shutdown. I’m in bed. I know that I took myself there, but I have only a dim awareness of the conversation.

I’d helped my (ex?) husband to scan in documents and email the letting agent. I’d calmed him when they went to the wrong email address and we re-sent them to the correct address.

I remember recognising that he was very anxious and that he was closer to having his style of meltdown, which is much louder than mine.

He said that he was anxious not only about all these practical things that he’s never done before, but because of the emotional stress.

He is asking for clarity with where we are, he doesn’t want “hope” it anything, just a plain answer.

From there on it gets a bit foggy.

What did I say?

How did I answer?

I’m pretty sure that I said that we (“own it yourself,” I think he said when I said “we” to something) need a time apart to decompress. We, both of us, are always starting from a place of high anxiety, which didn’t give either one of us very far to go.

Ah! I remember him talking about intimacy: he thinks that I don’t want it with him. I am not certain, but I think that I said something like “it’s hard to imagine being sexual with you when we’re not even friends at the moment.” I want us to work on enjoying each other’s company again – we’ve had a couple of nice days together and that felt like a start to me.

He thinks that I don’t want him in the kink spaces that I’m entering … I think that’s what he said. I don’t recall if I replied or what I said.

He asked something that seemed like it would end everything. I can remember starting to answer, but he would fill in the time between my words. I don’t blame him – I think I was speaking very slowly and with a lot of pauses.

I do not remember how I answered, but it felt bad.

Ah! I remember something else – I said that I felt like a monster because I cannot respond to his needs and his crises like I used to: he is not safe and I cannot be relied upon at the moment. He said something about it being about me and my feelings.

I do not remember!

I hate my head!

It’s like piecing together a drunken night out from mental fragments.

I also know that I have hurt that man that I do love. Again.

I wish. I wish that he could stop asking – just got a while – pressing for answers, Boolean yes or no’s, forcing the collapse of possibilities, closes doors that I did not want to close, extinguishes hope, and leaves our world a little darker.