Madley Loses but Wins

Okay, now back to REAL reality.

Good Old Jack just left slamming the door and telling me to fuck off. Hmm. What's wrong with this picture? That I put up with this shit.

He always threatens to leave because I can't talk to him immediately, OR that I will talk with him sitting down, not eating, not futzing, not MOVING, just there listening and not interupting when I say I will.

Well, I'm in my room tonight finally finishing up a scrapbook (!!!) for my mother before I can go and get some rest (figure THAT one out, I'm one sick chick), but feeling good, listening to some really old jazz on the radio, lights and photos everywhere and dearest Yvette at my feet snoring away. (BTW, she's a lot better -- on antibiotics for infection.)

He comes over after a poker class, one of the events of that social group he blasted last week, wanting to talk. I say, let me finish this, eat a piece of salami, get water and then I'm available.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Completely available?"

"Yes."

"I'm double checking."

"Okay, yes."

So I get my salami in the kitchen where's he's doodling on the computer and he starts talking. I tell him I'm not done eating and he starts huff/puffing. I give the dog something to eat too and he puffs harder because that's not part of the deal, to feed the dog.

I feed the dog anyway, go to the bathroom, then go to my room to eat and listen to the jazz he can't stand.

"I gotta go. You said salami and now you're eating tuna too." (I never said I didn't have eclectic taste ;)

"Okay, okay. I'll stop. Here I come."

I pull a chair up next to the computer. "So, what's up? How was the poker event?"

Nothing.

"What's wrong?"

"You said you'd talk after you were done, not feed the dog and mess around. I'm leaving."

"Hey, hang on there. You don't have to leave. I'm sorry, you're right, I promised. I'm here now."

"I don't want to talk now, I wanted to talk when I wanted to talk before. If you didn't want me to come in, you should have said it was a bad time and I wouldn't have come in."

"Well, come on, Jack -- don't put me in that position, it's not very nice..."

"You have to decide if it's a good time for you or not then because then I just won't come in, I'll just leave."

I guess this is what he calls working on my boundary issues. He thinks HE has to work on it with me.

I take a deep breath. "You're right. I shouldn't have let you in. I was in a good place and hoped you would be too." (Let's see if that works.)

"I don't want to talk anymore."

Well. That's it for me. I was very calm:

"Okay, then get out."

"Get out? Get out?"

"Yeah, get out. You're always threatening to leave, so you can just leave. I won't ask you to stay anymore and fall for that 'making me feel guilty' stuff anymore. Get out."

"Well fuck you." SLAM (door) SLAM (screen).

I sat there deep breathing, but not in a panic. It felt great to not be in a panic or feeling bad! I just unplugged both of my phones and posted these two posts. :)

I think what I'm learning now -- take people at their word. And also know that I'm not the person he wants me to be -- someone as straightline and narrow as him. I'm obviously someone much more flexible -- for good (easy-going) and bad (not firm). As you can see it can be hard for me to have a backbone... but you know, I'm realizing my vertebrae do exist in there somewhere.

Also, I had resigned in mind that there would always be a Jack in my life -- because he's kinda like glue? Always there for me, bad or good? I don't know. But tonight... I actually daydreamed for one lovely minute or two -- life moving on past Jack and wishing him well, but far away...

It was really... rich.

Life as rich... what a concept. I like it already.