I thought this "moving in" issue was settled. Maybe not to my liking, but like a lot of things in my life I learned to deal with it. For reasons he has never explained, he doesn't feel comfortable enough for either of us to uproot, even though we've been sleeping together for almost a year, had all the prerequisite coupley moments, and said the L-word as often as each other's names. I mean, whatever.
But I've accepted it. He doesn't want to go domestic. Sure, he loved when we could carpool, or when I was out of work and making him breakfast every other morning, but things have changed. Suddenly it's not so convenient when I'm at his place and we both have to get to work, and he doesn't want to give me a lift because of the traffic going that direction will require us to leave an hour early.
Me staying over simply doesn't work. I was lying in bed at 11 last night. He was drifting off to sleep next to me, and I was mentally trying to figure out how to get to work for the next morning. I only had one choice. With a deep breath, I slowly lifted his arm off me and sat up.
He muttered sleepily, "Oh, just gonna fuck me and leave then?"
I'm not in a joking mood but I pretend, telling him "Sorry beautiful, you know the drill."
"Can we just lie here a little while longer?" I can see his real intentions by the tent he's pitching under the sheets, and as much as I'd love another ride, I really need to get home.
"If you want, we can resume this party at my place," I offer as a consolation prize.
He won't take it. I don't know why, but he just won't do it with Raine next door. We've been known to make love at volumes that go through walls (I'm sorry, I can't help it) and she's teased us about it. I mean, I can take it, it's girl-talk, but I don't think he likes her knowing how long he can (or can't) last. I tell him he has nothing to worry about, but you know men.
I think in general he doesn't like her, though. A while ago I found out she was having a little fling with Danny, our supposedly-gay friend. It ended in June, and she was pretty beat up about it. I was supportive, even though I didn't get how it happened. Alex was not supportive of my support.
Just to let you know, that whole thing apparently started when Raine was invited to "partake" in a three-way with Danny and a bisexual guy, and I guess they thought they had chemistry, just the two of them. Alex, in an attempt to wash his hands of the whole scenario, now dislikes coming over to my place. It's really driven a wedge in our social circle.
On the drive back to my place, I let it slip: "I just hate that you don't like any of my friends."
He defended himself: He liked my friends fine until they all started screwing around and making it impossible to be around them. I rolled my eyes. Everyone has friends like that. So Raine and Danny had a falling out. Sara and Thom are off in their own little engaged world. TRhat didn't mean they weren't good people, who are important to me.
"You don't like any of my friends either," he said.
"You don't have any friends," I replied. BAD. MOVE.
(I mean, is it obvious I haven't had a ton of relationship experience? But I really thought I was getting the hang of it.)
He loses it. "I have friends! I'm friends with everyone I work with. You never come by the old office to say hi."
"Because I work too now! And it's embarrassing enough to be the only person who got fired, out of like 200 people" I was ballparking this figure because I was tired and upset, "And I don't remember you ever talking too much about anyone from work."
"Because so many of them are women and you get so jealous anytime I even look at another girl!"
"I do not!"
"You're always talking about how much better looking you are, how glad you are that you don't look like them or dress like them or whatever that means... remember when that Karen chick came up from Louisville? You really seemed to fucking hate her, even though you claimed she was a friend. I think the reason you wanted to rush into moving in was because you were afraid I'd cheat on you if I ever got out of your sight. Even though I'm the one that should be worried about you."
All the breath left my body. All the blood rushed to my face. I just stared at him as he stared out at the night road. I had to speak slowly. "What. The Fuck. Is That. Supposed. To Mean."
He said exactly what I knew it meant: "It means I stole you from Buddy, and there's always a chance I'll just lose you to the next guy."
I welled up with tears. I couldn't face him. I couldn't talk anymore. When we got back to my place, I just quietly left the car and stomped into the building, getting in the elevator, letting my tears hit the ground.
I couldn't believe someone I loved so much would say such mean, hurtful things. Even when we fight, we never fight, but for whatever reason we just lost it on each other, and he really didn't fucking hold back.
I spent all night crying in my pillow wondering: What the hell did he want from me? He wants me around, but he doesn't want me to live with him, doesn't like my friends, doesn't like the inconvenience of me having to do stuff without him (like work.) Is it so wrong, after all I've been through, to want a little consistency in my life?
I have to remind myself, Alex doesn't know "what I've been through." But his interpretation of my personality, my "jealousy" and worst of all the idea that someone might "steal me" from him really hit hard.
From the way he made me feel about myself... I mean, that was not okay at all. And for the first time since we started, I thought about breaking up with him, but I couldn't bring myself to give much power to that thought. One bad night isn't going to erase the good ones. It's not like this is typical.
I thought about it all day today. Hell, I probably talked my co-worker's ear off about it. For his part, he was a pretty patient listener. Then while I was writing this blog entry, I got this text:
"I'm so sorry for last night. I think I'm ready to talk about this. I hope you are too."
It's 7:00 now. I told him to come over at 8. It's time for us to have a serious talk about our relationship.