Sunday, April 28, 2013
Monday, April 8, 2013
Saying Goodbye Part 1
Ending an almost 20 year friendship is not something I take lightly. When J. asked me never to contact him again, I was stunned but actually relieved. For me it was the end of fights and clashes that had been going on for at least two months. J. has been a functioning alcoholic for years. I knew that, but I really hoped he would be well and come out of whatever funk he was in. I couldn't help from 3 states away though, and I was going through a lot as well: putting myself through school while working several jobs [sometimes at the same time]. Struggling to keep a roof over my head, lights on, and food in the house while keeping my grades up was no joke.
As I went on in school, I would talk to J. through I.M. I couldn't really talk because I was always up doing homework, in rehearsal (Theatre major), at work, etc. Sometimes I could take a break to talk, but it wasn't often. J. liked to send me youtube links that I couldn't watch because I was trying to study or write a paper. I always said I'd watch them later, but I barely did. He tried to talk to me about TV shows, but since I'm a workaholic I never knew what he was talking about because I don't watch TV. Even when I said I'd never seen Lost, and didn't really care to, he'd start talking about some character's dilemma and tell me to look into it. I didn't, because I have no interest in Lost. He took it as me being rude. Perhaps it was, but I felt that constantly trying to push me to watch something that I've constantly said I had no interest in was just as rude.
J. likes to aggravate people because it amuses him. I've never found such things funny, call it a stick up my ass. That's fine, I'll take that. I found these kind of things to be just plain cruel. For instance, I hated my last apartment. It was tiny, I had no room to move, and the guy upstairs snored so loudly that I could barely sleep from 10pm to 7am, even with headphones on. In the morning, I could hear another upstairs neighbor having sex with his wife, and when the couple next door fought I could hear them loud and clear behind my headboard. I was in hell. During a conversation with J. I mentioned my tiny hell hole, and he responded by telling me, in detail, about the large house he just rented. Even as I said: "I don't want to hear this." and "You're being so mean right now, stop.", he kept describing how nice his place was, and how many rooms he had. It didn't matter that I was in a bad place then. he had to rub it in because he found it funny.
I let it slide, just like during our relationship and other times before.
So the beginning of the end, otherwise known as a little game I like to play called: "Am I the Asshole Here?".
April 2012: I'm FINALLY about to graduate from college, and it's a big night for me. In order to graduate, I had to direct a play in the Senior Project festival. I worked on this project, from proposal to stage for one year. Opening nights comes, the plays are a success, and I'm on cloud nine. It's a night of roses, wine, and hugs. I take some pictures with the other directors, and upload them to Facebook. In the middle of the opening night reception, my phone goes off. It's J. sending an I.M. "So you're a director now. That's pretty cool." Right when I'm tapping out a thank you, I get another message: "By the way, your boobs look really good in that dress. You should get on your webcam and show them to me."
WHAT. THE FUCK.
I don't have time to be angry with my professors and friends around, so I send a terse message saying "That's not how I was planning on celebrating my directorial debut.", and went back to my party. I was steaming for the next few days, but I made no contact. I went straight into another play, and started stage managing a ballet. Oh and class, I still had to go to class. When he messaged me again, I wasn't going to mention it right away because I knew he was drunk. He's always drunk. But when I asked how he was doing, he said: "Sad because I didn't get to see awesome boobs." and I just lost it. I ripped into him, telling him that I wasn't an object, and I didn't appreciate being treated like one. He apologized several times, saying that he was drunk (duh.) and off his meds (duh.), and begged me to tell him that I loved him. I wasn't as mean as I could have been because of course, I do love him. I accepted his apology, and moved on.
I didn't hear from J. for a couple of weeks, and then my college graduation came and went. He'd said that if I sent an invite, he would come... and that didn't happen. When I called him to find out what was going on, I found out that he'd deleted me from Facebook, and had completely dismissed me because, get this: He was angry that I got offended by the message asking to see my breasts. Apparently he thought that "what we had was stronger than that". Me = Shocked. Like: http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_md6qm3NO8y1qj29cho1_500.gif
He then mentioned that I'd been distant lately, so he decided to let me go. Distant, he says. Really. I don't know what he means? I mean, in one month I'd designed and directed a play, acted in another play, stage managed a ballet, worked at a night club on weekends, worked on a major news package for my Journalism capstone class, had final exams, and.... wait for it... graduated from fucking college. Do you think I might have been a little... mmmm, what's the word.... BUSY? I mean, how did this become MY fault? I didn't send anyone drunken texts asking for webcam nudity. Why am I being punished by a man for telling him that I'm not his whore? Where they do that at!?
In the last year, J. started bringing up the problems we had during our relationship. He said he'd regretted never seeing me when I lived in Atlanta, and that he didn't remember denying that we were together shortly after we broke up. Here's the thing about me: I believe in leaving the past in the past. I don't see what good comes of dredging things up from almost a decade ago. I'd be in the middle of a conversation with J. and he'd say something sexual, because he'd been drinking. One night he asked "Not to stroke my ego or anything, but you said something in bed to me a year ago... that I almost got you off. Was that true?" I answered the question, and when I asked why he replied: "To stroke my ego." Apparently that was a joke, and I was supposed to laugh, but I didn't find it funny. I was confused why he would dredge up something I said 8 years ago. I didn't understand what use it would be to either of us now. He said that he was sure he could get me off now, and I asked if we could change the subject. J. Got mad and said "I'm sorry if I offended you." and logged off. After few minutes he logged back on, and said that he was making a joke, and he was getting sick of explaining his sense of humor to me. I was just irritated, because I didn't think any of it was amusing. Any talk of intimacy with J. made me uncomfortable now. We haven't even been in the same state for 6 years, and we haven't been intimate for 8 years. It gave me the feeling that he just felt he could talk to me any way he wanted, and if I reacted negatively I was the one with the problem, not him. Same as always. It's always MY problem.
I'm tired and I have work. More to come.
As I went on in school, I would talk to J. through I.M. I couldn't really talk because I was always up doing homework, in rehearsal (Theatre major), at work, etc. Sometimes I could take a break to talk, but it wasn't often. J. liked to send me youtube links that I couldn't watch because I was trying to study or write a paper. I always said I'd watch them later, but I barely did. He tried to talk to me about TV shows, but since I'm a workaholic I never knew what he was talking about because I don't watch TV. Even when I said I'd never seen Lost, and didn't really care to, he'd start talking about some character's dilemma and tell me to look into it. I didn't, because I have no interest in Lost. He took it as me being rude. Perhaps it was, but I felt that constantly trying to push me to watch something that I've constantly said I had no interest in was just as rude.
J. likes to aggravate people because it amuses him. I've never found such things funny, call it a stick up my ass. That's fine, I'll take that. I found these kind of things to be just plain cruel. For instance, I hated my last apartment. It was tiny, I had no room to move, and the guy upstairs snored so loudly that I could barely sleep from 10pm to 7am, even with headphones on. In the morning, I could hear another upstairs neighbor having sex with his wife, and when the couple next door fought I could hear them loud and clear behind my headboard. I was in hell. During a conversation with J. I mentioned my tiny hell hole, and he responded by telling me, in detail, about the large house he just rented. Even as I said: "I don't want to hear this." and "You're being so mean right now, stop.", he kept describing how nice his place was, and how many rooms he had. It didn't matter that I was in a bad place then. he had to rub it in because he found it funny.
I let it slide, just like during our relationship and other times before.
So the beginning of the end, otherwise known as a little game I like to play called: "Am I the Asshole Here?".
April 2012: I'm FINALLY about to graduate from college, and it's a big night for me. In order to graduate, I had to direct a play in the Senior Project festival. I worked on this project, from proposal to stage for one year. Opening nights comes, the plays are a success, and I'm on cloud nine. It's a night of roses, wine, and hugs. I take some pictures with the other directors, and upload them to Facebook. In the middle of the opening night reception, my phone goes off. It's J. sending an I.M. "So you're a director now. That's pretty cool." Right when I'm tapping out a thank you, I get another message: "By the way, your boobs look really good in that dress. You should get on your webcam and show them to me."
WHAT. THE FUCK.
I don't have time to be angry with my professors and friends around, so I send a terse message saying "That's not how I was planning on celebrating my directorial debut.", and went back to my party. I was steaming for the next few days, but I made no contact. I went straight into another play, and started stage managing a ballet. Oh and class, I still had to go to class. When he messaged me again, I wasn't going to mention it right away because I knew he was drunk. He's always drunk. But when I asked how he was doing, he said: "Sad because I didn't get to see awesome boobs." and I just lost it. I ripped into him, telling him that I wasn't an object, and I didn't appreciate being treated like one. He apologized several times, saying that he was drunk (duh.) and off his meds (duh.), and begged me to tell him that I loved him. I wasn't as mean as I could have been because of course, I do love him. I accepted his apology, and moved on.
I didn't hear from J. for a couple of weeks, and then my college graduation came and went. He'd said that if I sent an invite, he would come... and that didn't happen. When I called him to find out what was going on, I found out that he'd deleted me from Facebook, and had completely dismissed me because, get this: He was angry that I got offended by the message asking to see my breasts. Apparently he thought that "what we had was stronger than that". Me = Shocked. Like: http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_md6qm3NO8y1qj29cho1_500.gif
He then mentioned that I'd been distant lately, so he decided to let me go. Distant, he says. Really. I don't know what he means? I mean, in one month I'd designed and directed a play, acted in another play, stage managed a ballet, worked at a night club on weekends, worked on a major news package for my Journalism capstone class, had final exams, and.... wait for it... graduated from fucking college. Do you think I might have been a little... mmmm, what's the word.... BUSY? I mean, how did this become MY fault? I didn't send anyone drunken texts asking for webcam nudity. Why am I being punished by a man for telling him that I'm not his whore? Where they do that at!?
In the last year, J. started bringing up the problems we had during our relationship. He said he'd regretted never seeing me when I lived in Atlanta, and that he didn't remember denying that we were together shortly after we broke up. Here's the thing about me: I believe in leaving the past in the past. I don't see what good comes of dredging things up from almost a decade ago. I'd be in the middle of a conversation with J. and he'd say something sexual, because he'd been drinking. One night he asked "Not to stroke my ego or anything, but you said something in bed to me a year ago... that I almost got you off. Was that true?" I answered the question, and when I asked why he replied: "To stroke my ego." Apparently that was a joke, and I was supposed to laugh, but I didn't find it funny. I was confused why he would dredge up something I said 8 years ago. I didn't understand what use it would be to either of us now. He said that he was sure he could get me off now, and I asked if we could change the subject. J. Got mad and said "I'm sorry if I offended you." and logged off. After few minutes he logged back on, and said that he was making a joke, and he was getting sick of explaining his sense of humor to me. I was just irritated, because I didn't think any of it was amusing. Any talk of intimacy with J. made me uncomfortable now. We haven't even been in the same state for 6 years, and we haven't been intimate for 8 years. It gave me the feeling that he just felt he could talk to me any way he wanted, and if I reacted negatively I was the one with the problem, not him. Same as always. It's always MY problem.
I'm tired and I have work. More to come.
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