This Blanket of Silence Suffocates Me

As of last Friday, Lady Looney is no longer speaking to me. Now, you may assume from my previous posts and maybe from personal conversations that this is a good thing.

No longer do I have to deal with the nagging, the nosiness, the blatant WTFery. I don't have to bite my tongue to keep from correcting her fantastically made up assumptions, nor do I have to stop all activity to attentively listen to her accounts of nagging her husband. I no longer feel like she is keeping a log of every bite I eat and every time I sneeze.

Now we sit in silence. Not the easy kind of silence that occurs between companions. This is a heavy kind of brooding silence that screams, "I mad at you!"

You must be dying to ask. "What did you do? Did you finally lose your cool? Did you go off on her? Did you say the horribly  mean things you've been dying to say for eight months?"

The answer to your question is no. None of the above. In fact, I have no idea what I did. But whatever it is, it obviously warrants a thorough silent treatment.

It's miserable, actually, to sit in silence all day. To know that your attempts at niceties are completely unwanted and will be studiously ignored is an exhausting thing. The silence weighs heavily on me. It makes me nervous and it hurts my feelings. Mostly because I didn't do anything!

But I can be just as stubborn as she is, and I'm not about to come crawling back to make the peace. I'll get used to being ignored.

Sigh...this sucks.