Screaming into the Void

You responded ‘i know. me too.’

I don’t think I believe you anymore.

We’ve been friends for three years and it is killing me that because you get bored of the girls you date that I’m losing someone I talked to every fucking day.

I checked my phone after every few items to see if the the sorting and stacking would work like a magic charm to summon you.

It didn’t until the box was sealed and stashed away, when you messaged me to ask me how my day had been.

“Okay,” I said. “I went for a bike ride.”

I didn’t mention sobbing in the shower and making myself bleed when i couldn’t cry out the pain inside.

My best friend told me today, “He’s like a cat. He gets excited by shiny objects and then gets bored and moves on.”

“Then why did you push me into his arms so hard if you knew this about him,” I asked.

“Because I wanted a reason to stop loving him. I’m sorry,” she said, and held me as I cried.

I haven’t seen you in three weeks. Again.

The first time it happened, you said you were sorry and you didn’t know how you’d let it happen.

I’ve gotten used to it.

I hate it.

I hate myself for knowing that if you asked me to dinner tomorrow, I’d gratefully agree.

Last Sunday, California Boy and I had lunch together, then he came over that evening and we had drinks and looked at art, and met friends at the bar, and I had too many drinks, and we went back to my apartment and watched Firefly with my roommate and he fell asleep on me on the couch and I took him to my bed to sleep and we ended up naked and naughty, and I slept with a warm boy in my bed. 

It was the first time we'd done more than cuddle in weeks, and by now I think the booze must have been to blame.

On Wednesday I went to his place and we had our weekly mexican food night, and everything felt awkward again. I can't READ him. I try to bring up stuff to talk about and half the time it seems to fall flat. It seems sometimes like we just can't connect and I don't know why.

We still haven't Talked and most of my friends agree that a) I made the first move and it's his turn to say where he stands, and b) that if he hasn't done it by now he either doesn't feel the thing and doesn't have the balls to say it so he keeps dragging things out, or if he does, he still can't get his shit together and I should move on.

I've been TRYING. Some days I feel like I'm succeeding in putting him in the 'just friends' box in my head but then I have a day like today where I haven't heard anything from him since yesterday evening and I spend the day wanting to cry.

I didn't want to feel this way.

I knew that there might be problems if we ever tried to date because we are both kind of awkward and shy. And I knew there might be problems because he liked the idea of me for so long that I was worried that the real me wouldn't live up to his fantasy version.

New year new things in my life. Where were we last?

Ah yes, looking for a home, uneasy roommate situation, BFF issues, awful boss, boy confusion, emotional instability.

Well, in November I found a two bedroom apartment which I ended up renting rather than renting a room. The location is great so I knew I wouldn't have a problem finding a roommate -- which I didn't. She moved in this week and so far seems pretty cool.

BFF and I are back in love.

My boss is still awful, but my coworker agrees that my boss is awful and that we need to talk to HR about her.

Boy issues are still totally not resolved. I took a deep breath the other night and sent him a text (at 2am, while he was sleeping, because I'm a coward.) telling him I liked him and that if he didn't like me the same way it was cool and I still wanted to hang out because he's great and I have fun with him, but we didn't have to kiss and stuff. At first I thought he hadn't gotten it at all, because he didn't say anything, even when I went over to hang out that night. But then yesterday morning he said he'd been planning on talking to me about it and had just fallen asleep too soon...but we still haven't talked about it. I thought that 'We will Talk about it' meant 'Nope not into you.'...but then last night for NYE we were at friends' (exroommates, actually) for a party and he was sweet and affectionate and we crashed on the couch together and cuddled after I woke from my drunken haze this morning. So I'm confused and stressed but too exhausted and cowardly to bring it up.

And we have this perpetual problem were sometimes we hang out and have nothing to say to each other. We are both awkward and shy and that sometimes works against us. But doesn't make me not like him.

One thing I'm hoping will help...well, heck, all the situations, across the board: I'm going back on my meds! Hurray insurance again! The last two weeks were brutally hard. I was so depressed I didn't know what to do. But I made it through to my doctor appointment this monday and my GP was able to prescribe me my SSRIs. I wasn't able to pick them up until yesterday morning and I didn't want to start them on a night I would be planning on following them with lots of drinking, but tonight...hell yes, starting on the healthy brain road.

Thank GOD.

My poor computer has been utterly glitchy lately and I've bugged the ex to do a remote check on it...we fiddled with some things but my first use of the year this morning resulted in an immediate BSOD. I need to take it somewhere for a checkup. I need to save for a new computer.

Not a lot else to share at the now. Meeting boy and friends one town over for ramen this evening and I'm thinking of biking there and hanging out and drawing for a while, once my phone's charged. nvmd...looks like it's closed today. I don't know what my plans are.

I'm starving but I've been locked in my room all evening because everyone else is out in the living room and I have food in the fridge but I don't feel comfortable going to get it.

My current best prospect for a place to rent is the detached unit behind this crazy old hippie man's house -- he is so anal about cleaning in the house that I'd be afraid to cook anything there and would probably live off of tea and instant oatmeal and he regularly decides to blast loud music in the backyard while having acid parties. During the interview he asked what hallucinogenic drugs I take.

So it occurred to me yesterday that I could rent the place we've been living with a couple roommates. I talked to BFF (though I don't think that name applies any longer) to see if she'd stay with me, and she claimed it would be 'too expensive'...though we wouldn't be paying any more than we are now. So I don't know, either her normal resistance to change or she just really wants to move with them. So I dropped roommate an email tonight and exactly what I didn't want to happen happened -- in front of the rest of the household she was all, 'oh...I just got your email *queue concerned eyes* It's kind of awkward, 'cause I didn't think you'd be INTERESTED, so I recommended my assistant at work already...'

So of course, feeling upset and cornered (and low on blood sugar), I threw out 'oh yeah, well...you know, it was this or living with the crazy hippie guy who might slip me MDMA to see how it effects my anxiety.' and she laughed and said that I might want to avoid that, to which I responded it's kind of a choice between that and living in my CAR and then she like, FOLLOWED me outside, all, 'oh well, you KNOW you can stay in some of the extra space in our new place...' (by which she means, an open den in a household where I already feel really unwanted) and I told her that would be really uncomfortable for me and wasn't going to happen. And she just kind of shrugged and said okay and went inside and I KNOW I didn't handle it well and went on the defensive but I'm so fucking stressed out and ACTUALLY scared I'm going to be living in my car soon that I just kind of snapped at her and the are moving before the end of the month and I CAN'T FIND A PLACE and I feel like I'm going to throw up every second of the day.

Pretty much the main person I just ached for back in the alternately frozen and sweltering east, was BFF. I mean, she has that nickname here for a very good reason.

But then I got here and, yes, the depression she was deep into put a small damper on things, but the real problem was Roommate.

Fucking insidious. I feel like she's digging her roots in everywhere with her patronizing smile and meddling nature and need to fucking one up everyone's problems, and just tearing up my life a chunk at a time.

Is that fair? I don't know. I had a bad day.

Back to the point, any time BFF and I went and did something together, the fires of hell would rain down upon our return. The gall of us to go and do anything without HER, how fucking dare we.

I could go do things and it was no problem.

But if BFF came with me, the ire we were subject to as a result was just...venomous. One night, after a BBQ, months ago, when life was suspended in a golden pool of impermanent joy, BFF and I went to California Boy's apartment with a couple other friends. It was about 11 -- nearing the time when Roommate and hubby tended to turn in. We received a scathing note the next morning, calling our move out as 'supremely douchy'.

The time I dragged BFF and California boy to the city for the day because I wanted a low drama, low planning trip, the sulking that Roommate did for us not having made it a group trip that included them and their baby was epic.

I admit I stopped trying as hard. I got caught up in romance and spent a lot of one-on-one time with the boy. And I just didn't want to deal with the attitude. I'm not a confronter. I'm an avoider.

But...I don't know, when I moved here, and BFF would bitch about dealing with Roommate, I thought there might be chance she'd decide she didn't want to be mommy #2, and might want to get a place with me. When Roommate was making big noises about moving to the next town north, BFF even suggested that we could keep the house and that California boy could move into the master bedroom and we could have a fun nerdy little house.

But now, she seems to have accepted her role as part of the family unit. We live together and I hardly see her. I'm not even sure she knows I'm moving out yet (I haven't wanted to bring it up to her because coming from me it feels like I'd be tattling or asking her to pick sides or something). She and Roommate joke about how they'll be still living together in their 90s, telling the same stories.

She has decided not to need me anymore.

So, California boy and I still have a..thing?

I've slept over twice. But I still just spend my time rotating between different types of stress.

Because I remain convinced that I will never live up to the idealized version of me that he had a crush on all this time. I'm not that cool. I'm not that pretty. I'm not that interesting. Because I imagine that at some point in his life he would like to have sex again, and with my STIssues, that's something that we haven't done and if we ever do, will be a risk, every single time, unless a time comes around where it stops being a risk and becomes a certainty. He's going to get tired of me find someone prettier, more confident, less neurotic, and/or that he can have sex with.

Because we have passed out of the period where we hadn't done anything romantic with each other and instead had mad adventures and flirted awkwardly while trying to pretend we weren't. I crave adventures. I crave romance. I can't be taken for granted. It leaves me so aching and unfulfilled. I'm not a piece of background scenery in anyone's life and I'm not a prize, so you can't win me and stick me on a shelf. KEEP. TRYING.

Because, though our couple status is in no way official, we passed through the hot passionate period into complacent couplehood at lightning speed. Once it was no longer fun and flirting and became, 'no we can't just fall into bed like we want to', couch cuddling became a far more frequent feature of our time together than heat and mouths and tongues and clothes pulled off in impatient haste. Now, don't get me wrong; couch cuddling is great. But god DAMN I need passion too. I want to be shoved against a wall and ravaged because he just can't keep his hands/mouth/body off me. I want to feel pretty and sexy and desired. Sweet kisses on my shoulder while we are curled up together under a fleece blanket are lovely...but I want him to WANT me. And I feel like my revelation about my problem was just a big bucket of ice water on any fire we had going.

Because we are both awkward and neurotic and sometimes that makes connecting and communicating really difficult.

Because I want it too much and am scared.

Because I remain firm in my belief that anything that happens HAS to be his decision because it would be unfair of me to coerce, cajole, or otherwise pressure him into a situation where he is taking risk.

Because even if he decides it is worth the risk, that adds an element of stress to sex that could kill things at that point.

Because I'm afraid that he won't decide it is.

Because by this point I'm just repeating problems with slightly altered wording but it still makes my throat ache to type each and every one.

The option of an out, of returning to friend status is still open to him, but every time I'm on the verge of bringing it up to remind him, he does something to show he's in this and I change course.

So. My roommates evicted me.

When I moved in, knowing I was in their baby's nursery, I made my plans to find other quarters really clear from the start.

But baby's mom was super insistent that having the baby in their room was actually really convenient and that the rent money I contributed was really helpful in saving for the house they were hoping to buy in a year or so. I asked if she was sure, if she was SURE she was sure, and then started unpacking and making it 'my' room.

Well, first of all, that year or so was a joke, because pretty much every time I unpacked anything I was told within days that they had found a house and wanted to put in an offer and that I needed to know what i wanted to do within a month...but every time i was on the verge of repacking, it turned out that the offer had fallen through after all and we would totally be here at least a year.

Rinse and repeat.

Second, every time I thought that the living situation was just too uncertain and I should think about just finding a place anyway, I had it strongly implied that my financial help was really something that was making the difference in them being able to buy a house.

So, I've stayed.

Until last week, when they came to me and explained that having the baby in their room was really wearing on them and making them fight a lot and they really needed me to find somewhere else to live.

I understand, I do.

But it would have been nice if they could have figured that out back when I got here.

And then, they put in an offer on a house -- one with one room too few for me, if I HAD wanted to move with them, but one that was actually in their price range. They are expecting an answer at any time and by golly they added a little extra into their offer in hopes of expediting escrow and getting settled by the holidays.

And let me tell you something. Finding a room to rent in California that I can afford AND that will let me take my cats is a mighty task to which I may or may not be equal.

Then tonight I brought up to Roommate the uncomfortable fact that rent is about due but that they want me out as soon as I can be, but that most places will want a security deposit about equal to monthly rent...so, if I gave her the rent money, that would likely leave me in their kid's room longer. She promptly told me that I would have to bring the question before all the housemates, as it would mean everyone paying more and I just do not want to discuss this with her husband, so...I'm giving her the rent money and praying.