There are no words

Well, there are a few.

 

I always feel a little bit of shame. Shame because I am always assessing whether I make these situations “situations” or if they would have happened no matter what I did.  Shame because in protecting myself I no longer care about the person I am protecting myself from in the slightest. In fact I want them to feel pain. Not physical, but emotional stressful pain. In their pain I want them to retreat into themselves and wish that they had never done anything to wrong me.  They should remember that I am right and if they comply their pain will end or at least lessen.  I just got back from seeing X:Men First Class which has nothing to do with what I am talking about but probably has influenced my language.

My room mate moved out. Here are reasons why.

I sent her a series of emails asking her if she planned on renewing her sublease and if so suggesting that we sit down and discuss a few more house rules.  I listed a few I had in mind but made it clear that we would both follow them and she would have input as well.  The email started all smart and fair like that.  Then when she didn’t respond in weeks I began to get annoyed.  Then other escalating events warranted more emails that were not answered or acknowledged. Then I got more angry. In the final email I told her that I needed to know by the end of that week if she was staying or not.  This was not answered and I didn’t know the answer until I asked her point blank. She said yes, she was planning on moving out.

Reasons why I was pissed off:

Several (more than 5 less than say 20) times I have had to remind her that she left the oven or burner on

Several times I have had to remind her that she left the door unlocked.

She gave a key to the apartment to her boyfriend without asking.

She refused to give the key back to me when I asked.

She mysteriously lost my ipod (long story).

She continually disrespected me and communal space.

Months after living together she seemed to decide for herself that she didn’t have to pay rent until she damn well pleased.  It wasn’t an issue of not having the money.  She just really didn’t think of it as a priority and always seemed surprised after I had to ask about it. After one month fighting about the due date we agreed that she can pay by the 5th of the month.  The very next month she insisted that we agreed on the 7th.

(After she decided to move out)

I came home Saturday, went to bed, got up in the middle of the night to a weird light on in the kitchen. I followed it and found that she had left the refrigerator door open for several hours (she hadn’t been home since the afternoon).

Sunday I come home from church and again she has been gone for hours and she left my back door leading to the balcony wide open. As in anyone could have walked up the back steps and into my apartment.

The next day we sat down to settle up and talk. This talk went a lot like other talks I’ve had.  She got to slowly go over her list of grievances and even if I *looked* like I wanted to respond to something she said she would pause and say something patronizing like “Amber, I don’t want to have a two year old conversation.” So I had to sit and listen to her tell me that I was mean and that being nice never hurt anyone.  ”Being. nice. never. hurts.” She said as slowly as possible like they were words in a foreign language I was just learning.  I could feel my pulse in my eyeballs. I kept myself from screaming curse words when she finally allowed me to talk and for that I am very proud. Basically she refused to respond to my emails because it was finals time and her mom’s friend had cancer, and she was fighting with her boyfriend even though he was still there every day. Oh, and all of the things I listed like forgetting to turn off burners were all because she was off her ADD medicine.  For the missing Ipod that she swears I must have thrown into her room and has no idea where it could be she gave me just over $100.  Everything was on her terms.  It upsets my stomach to say.

I didn’t make her feel pain. Basically she left thinking I has just some bully that deluded into thinking that I ever deserved respect from anyone.  She has enough excuses and people willing to accept them to get her by. Honestly, I don’t think anything will ever stick to her because she have far too many reasons to never be responsible.  She is going to live with people who aren’t like me.  People who will accept bullshit about when she thought she had to pay rent that she made up herself. If she burns the house down it was her poor ADD. If your things were mysteriously in her possession and they are gone now then you needed to take better care of your things.

It all doesn’t matter and I am sick of thinking about it. I am sick of being in this situation. Knowing that no matter what I feel and what I see it will never mean anything.  It doesn’t mean anything that I feel disrespected.  It doesn’t mean anything that I think disrespect is at the center of so many of my conflicts in life.  It is not something that I can prove and I can’t even call it what it is when it presents itself.  I am sick of people who, when challenged (or even just presented with an opportunity) find no problem with making me less than a person.  The things I care about don’t mean anything.  I find it funny (in the cry cry way not the ha ha way) that in these situations my first reaction is to extend the olive branch.  To discuss. To come together as two people with a disagreement  and find some middle ground.  The problem with that situation is that is presumes that both parties are on equal footing.  Every time I have come to sit at the table as a person no one has come to meet me.

Maybe I just had to get the words out of me.  Maybe I don’t really believe it.  Maybe I just don’t want to. Maybe I just want the right to get angry and push people away and them not go away. Maybe I test people on purpose. Maybe I don’t know what I’m talking about.

But I do know I don’t want to talk about it.

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