So far, my Easter Sunday has been a day of reflection. That’s not a typical Easter for me. Typical would be to spend it at my folks’ house, with my niece finding the eggs I’d hidden for her, stuffing myself with Peeps that have been aired out to the perfect rock-hard consistency, and then having a big ham dinner with my grandmother’s perfection ham gravy.

Obviously, that’s not what I’m doing. I’m home. Alone. C. has duty. And that’s probably for the best, because I’ve been using this day to … reflect.

I’ve been angry for almost 24 hours. Not typical for me. Normally, I fire up, then cool down relatively quickly. I’m not a sulker or a grudge-carrier. But when I woke up this morning, I was still angry. Why? Because C. snapped at me over something stupid, and I didn’t like his reason for doing it. I still don’t. But that’s not really the point.

The point is – I’m angry. Well, less now than I was this morning, but still I feel it at my heart. Anger is born of a fear. I know that just him snapping at me is not nearly enough to set me off into this 24 hour fit of venom. So today, I’ve been reflecting on what that fear might be. I’ve come up with a few possibilities.

The first is probably off the wall, but I felt it nonetheless, and have decided to share it, thinking that maybe another submissive/partner had felt it too. I give in too much. C is used to (I figure) getting his own way and having things done the way he wants them – all the time. I rarely (if ever) say no to him about anything. There is a fine line between submissive and doormat and I’m afraid of crossing that line at some point. I asked a friend recently if she ever said no to her husband when he asked for sex, and she said that she did sometimes. I never do. I’ve never uttered those words to C – or, hell – to anyone except my ex-husband. So then, in my head, I’m wondering if maybe I shouldn’t say no once in awhile. Maybe there’s no challenge here for C. And then I think – fuck that – that’s game playing and I refuse to do that. But there is validity there, somewhere.

The second is a little more plausible. C rarely has to ask me for anything. I usually have everything done. If he’s out of cigarettes, I buy them. If he’s out of beer, I buy it. Uniforms at the cleaners? I pick them up. Uniforms to be washed? I wash them. Upcoming holiday? I buy his family’s cards. Consider this: Last night, I was angry with him. I shut down Everquest just so I could get out of the room he was in. And yet – there I was – knowing he had duty today and knowing his cammies needed washed – and I washed them. Out of a sense of responsibility? Maybe. Because I’m trying to be perfect? More likely. In trying to ease his stress, I’ve created myself stress. Not of getting the stuff done, because frankly, it’s not that hard. But because he doesn’t have to ask me for anything, when I have to ask HIM for something, I feel needy. There is no even exchange of “you do this for me, and I’ll do that for you.”. I hate feeling needy. It makes me insane. And even then – when I ask for something that I want or need, I have expectations that it will be done – or at least an attempt will be made. When it isn’t, I am disappointed and – well, yes – angry. Yesterday was C’s only day off this week. He has not had one since last Sunday, and will not have another until next Saturday. His cold is still hanging on. I expressed a desire to go have lunch at Hardee’s on Saturday because I was hankerin’ for a Ham N Cheese. I also expressed a desire to go shopping for an exercise bike. He expressed a desire for extra sleep and Everquest. Both of which he got. I got neither of my requests. It was his only day off. I know. He’s still sick. I know. He needed to rest and relax. I know. I know. I know. Knowing doesn’t help erase my frustration – and my fear.

I feel selfish and I’m angry about that, too.

I feel better, having reflected on it, and getting at least a partial handle on why I’m upset. I feel better having written it, too. It’s only 3pm. There may be more after a nap (I didn’t sleep well at all. I’m not even sure I slept), and some further thought.