Well he didn't listen. Never really did.
Only when it suited him. Suited his needs & wants & feelings.
He'd ask for one situation whilst fantasising about a different one.
He'd ask for one thing then ask for another contradictory thing.
He'd give control then take it back when he no longer liked it, when it no longer gave him what he wanted.
He'd give a little but take a lot.
1 step forward, 12 steps back.
It was a very agonising dance & it was one that neither one of us were any good at.
We'd strike up a pose, he'd proposition a situation, I'd disagree but explore it with apprehension, he'd give & give & give, almost beg for it, my mask would slip; I would express discomfort at what we were dancing too & suddenly his footsteps would falter. He'd begin taking back every ounce of control he gave up when it'd been convenient.
We'd begin stepping on each other's feet until eventually he'd stop & end the dance.
He'd brush what happened under the metaphorical rug & strike up a new dance with an iron-clad grip on my hand.
The main difference being he was the one picking the dance & the music.
I was just there to fill the void.
