Full Reverse

This post is not funny, ironic or witty. It is actually somewhat a downer so please feel free to skip. I may or may not take this down shortly as I'm not sure if it needs to be *out there* for everyone. It just needs to be out there for me for a bit.

Okay, I guess I need to back up. After my last post I had several inquiries as to where Monikerless Man had went. In the shortest answer, gone. I guess the lack of title no longer matters.

I have been very patient and haven't written about anything going on for quite some time, but now it's my turn to do as I see fit. MM's mom became more and more of a problem within our relationship. (She is essentially a raging alcoholic.) She kept drinking herself into the hospital where they'd fix her back up and ship her out again to repeat the next week/month etc. He moved in with her for a time and then she moved in with him. Neither worked well. He became so wrapped up in her that he couldn't pay his bills or work. She drank herself to the point where she fell, hit her head and had to have brain surgery. Yes, I said brain surgery. Her illness became like the "other woman". It wasn't even his mom he was choosing as much as it was the refusal to admit she had a problem. In the meantime something unexpected and then expected happened. I became pregnant (unexpected) and then lost the fetus (expected). What I was not prepared for was all the emotional baggage that this hauled out of storage. I had kind of thought I had that one all nicely wrapped and put away. To put it succinctly, I went a little manic. His response? "I just have too much on my plate right now. You're just going to have to deal with this." (Note to any unfortunate men reading this: NEVER EVER tell a woman with out-of-whack hormones who is suffering a rather traumatic experience to DEAL with it). He then chose that time to tell me that he didn't believe I knew what love really was because I don't believe in God. Also, not a good choice. I cancelled my tickets for a trip we supposed to be taking (alas, no Burn for me) and flew home to my mother and sister with my bruised ego and hurt feelings wrapped around me like a security blanket.

I never even got angry. I can hear the scoffs of disbelief from my friends reading this, but it is true. No anger, just kind of a certain numbness and resignation. Surrounded myself with family for a bit and then flew back to have the "talk". I had myself so worked up about it and what to say and how to get it right. And you know what? Turns out he didn't want to be with me either. So that should be the end of it, right? Instead we agreed to be friends. Apparently to him this means nothing changes except we don't have sex. To me this means I no longer cater to his needs or schedule and should be free to do whatever I feel like when the mood strikes. No more waiting for him to show up after work at 10 p.m. I can hit happy hour with the girls guilt free.

I am guessing you can see where this is going. Our definitions of "friends" is on a one-way street to disaster. He continues to come to my house, eat my food, use my computer, etc., etc. I start to get a little irritated and contemplate perhaps I am being used. (It's my own fault for allowing it, I know). So one fine Sunday morning MM calls and wakes me up...can he come over and use the computer for a webinar/dirty hippy/new age enlightenment bullshit thing he wants to watch. This is where the large mental head slap comes in. He still has my key. I say yes (grudgingly and realize we're going to have to have a talk about my space and boundaries) and leave for brunch with friends.

After having a good time at brunch and plans to go to the bike shop with Dan, I return home. I touch my front door which comes open at my touch and say hello.......crickets.......he isn't there and my house is wide open. There are food bags and other paraphernalia to prove he'd been there. I call, ask where he is...running an errand and then sidetracked helping these strangers move....all while my house is unlocked. He had the time for his webinar thing wrong but was coming right back. No big deal.

And then I snapped. I told him not to come back over because I didn't want to see him. And suddenly all the anger and resentment and hurt that I didn't feel before just poured over me like a tidal wave. I choked on it, was pummeled by it. How could he have so little regard for me, my home, and my safety? And he hung up on me!  Did he ever care at all or is this some sick game to see how much I will put up with? Well, we found that limit.
Now I am just struggling to get back to treading to water, to avoid drowning in anger and betrayal. I have no doubt that I will survive this. What passed between us was not all bad. A year and a half of my life, I'm sure, has some positive times. At the moment, I am not capable to look back with rose-colored glasses and laugh at the good times. The most I can promise anyone, including myself, is to not strike out and retaliate.  I know I have grown and will continue to grow through this.  I will be fine, I know it......as long as I don't maim him or worse. 

It sure helps his chances

Recently, I overheard a teenager's conversation on her cell phone. (NO, I was not eavesdropping, I followed at a very discreet distance so she MUST have been talking loud.) She says, "So I say to him, that while he is technically correct, I don't have to like him to sleep with him, it would sure help his chances."

This exchange confuses me. I am quite sure that I didn't realize I didn't actually have to like someone to have sex with them until sometime in college. Or maybe that was my marriage that taught me that? *mental shrug* I was really quite amazed. I couldn't decide if I should applaud the young, sexually-secure girl or cry for her lack of innocence.

Since I couldn't decide, I just wandered the store. I sat down in one of the chairs and struck a thinking pose. Could my social life really be on par with a teenager's? I mean really, at this point, I wouldn't have to actually LIKE someone for sex. Liking at this point is kind of moot. He must have a job, chew with his mouth closed, live on his own, breathe through his nose, have only one odd/disgusting/disturbing habit, be able to be seen in public during daylight hours, can make his way through a business/social situation with only one minor catastrophe, not be hung up on his mom, have a dependable mode of transportation (and a skateboard does not count), practice good hygiene, be literate, maintain at least a $20 balance in his checking account, and have no felonies on his record. Now, if I could find him, liking him would be beside the point. We would be having crazy-monkey sex. I would also be defending myself as several girlfriends might slit my throat while I sleep to steal his number.

So I can admit the girl was right. I don't have to like him, but it sure helps his chances.

Another way to amuse yourself at work

So, my group at work is "leading by example"* and as a result, I have moved from my office to open plan. (Door, walls...how I love and miss you so). As such, I sit and stare at 3 other attorneys all day, one of whom came onboard about three weeks ago. Dilbert has nothing on us at this point. This morning, not really thinking that I am in full view of my co-workers, I take out my gallon-bag holding my daily prescriptions and start laying out my pills. As I am popping roughly 8 pills into my mouth I look up and see one of my co-workers staring at me. Now, I am not psychic but sometimes you just know what someone is thinking (or at least I pretend I do). As he watches me medicate myself, you can see him dying to ask why in the world I am taking all this medicine. Almost immediately after the curiosity, stark fear chases across his face. This man should never play poker.

I imagine his internal dialogue went something like this: "holy crap that's a lot of medicine. How can she swallow all of that at once? I wonder why she is taking all of that......dear lord, is she sick? Is it contagious? I am sitting less than 8 feet away with nothing between us!"
At this point, I smile at him and ask, "which explanation would scare you less: I am the resident drug dealer or that what I have isn't catching so long as you cross your fingers in front of you and say ewww cooties?"

I am strongly considering giving myself my weekly shot in front of him next week. Just imagining myself bare ass in front of my co-workers is enough to give myself a chuckle :)

*Leading by example-another fine example of corporate speak...translation: you're getting screwed but you have to be happy about it and sell it to everyone else.

Does it all even out in the end?

SO...I have been sitting here wondering about this today. Is it true that everyone gets what's coming to them? Is there a karmic balance sheet? If so, I think I gotta be due some good stuff but enough about that.
As I have been staring a spreadsheets and lamenting my life (why is a lawyer doing property taxes again?) I have been wondering if all that advice about making lists of pros and cons/pluses and minuses actually works. How do you quantify the nebulous? How to rate someone's muchness? If all the minuses are small but beginning to mount but the pluses are nebulous and hard to cound, is this a valid measure? Can all of a person be assessed as cells in a spreadsheet?

All of this nonsense is making me long for the days of grey, of the crazy hypothetical where there is no 'right' answer. I am living in a world of too much black and white/right and wrong etc. Where's the middle ground? Where does it balance out?

A work in progress

Outside my door is a vine that smells like the honeysuckle that my parents used to have. The four-petal white flower emits a sweet, cloying, almost overpowering scent. It seems to have bloomed overnight, one day nothing and the next an oppressive sweetness permeates the air. The scent presses down on me reminding me of the inexorable passage of time, spring to summer which gives way to fall and fades into winter. The relentless reek is almost too much to bear.