I think that wrong number was a sign

I really do. A the end of a total fuck off of a day (12.5 hours behind soul sucking cubicle walls) while walking to drop off stuff for work I check my messages. The first message was really unexpected. A deep voice belonging in a church choir informs me he is calling back about the apartment and that he is showing it from such in such to such and such... I haven't called any apartments... well at least not physically. Haven't even dailed/emailed but lo and behold they are calling me. I should have taken note and not erased that message.


The next voice mail was a charmer. Nick is this pissy voice telling me that the mail I really needed didn't come. No pay for me, oh, goody, just the thing to go with a sour teenager. When I called back the conversation with both Nick and Mark on the line was really special too but that is a story for another day... let us just say the phone conversation was brief entailing the fact I didn't get the check I needed and some more complainy tone from both of them. I was topped out to say the least.

But let me take you back. Mark was really good to me last week. I was starting to think he had gotten a clue. And I was good to him back. I was all fake and everything for his folks (so they would be comforatable and he wouldn't have to "dissapoint" them) and spent my only real free time doing the stuff he wanted to do and needed for his parent. I didn't mind getting out fresh towels, or giving up my bed or all the other host stuff you do. It was having to button my lip while the said how great Dublin was and espoused the wonders of Walmart. Or when they denigrated ethnic food because it might have "flavor". Or when the forced me to have my picture taken despite the fact I had said I really didn't want it taken. Or when I had to agree with the stupid little things like "yes, visitors to SF only ever go to Fisherman's wharf" blah blah blah. I was even sat through a thing with all Mark's friend where they talked about their BMW's, the prices of homes in Tracy and how they couldn't trust their teenage daughter with a car that had a back seat... cause you know girls can't be trusted and sex is bad. "ha, ha, ha" I was affectionate with him when he was nice to me. And when he actually folded some laundry I was nice and took care of some of his stuff. I put energy and thought and a huge effort into being honest but not too brutal. I did the little things I thought would make his life easier without being asked. And it was starting to feel natural and easy to be around him. Well his parents left and it all came crashing down. And all the pleasantness went away. It makes me wonder if he wants to be with me or just doesn't want to be alone. Or if he was just faking it to look good for his folks. Or did he think that if he was cool for a week and that was going to change everything and make it magically better. Or that a little bit of kindness should be enough to keep me for a while and that it was enough.

Not to say that I am without fault. I was snappy when I got in last night. And after I cooled down, I apologized for it. I had my reasons (legit ones) but I could have gone about communicating them without being a bitch. I said as much. He proceeds to rain down a 15 min. "you suck, if you are ever a bitch to me I am leaving you" accompanied by all the reasons that I am not good enough for him. I point out I am very rarely a bitch to him... he agrees, then continues to spew his venom on everything I have done/not done that isn't good enough or right enough to him. Just when he was getting all into it and I felt me spirit being crushed I hit a wall. I said enough. I got up and headed to the door. He fucking threatened me. "If you walk away we're through!". Bite me. I will not be held hostage to emotional blackmail so I can be someone's whipping boy – all because I am not happy being twisted into someone I am not. Someone I don't want to be. I said straight up that I would not take ultimatums or threats and out the door I went. For the record I won't ever take that again in life. I am an adult and I have the power to end it. And so I did.

Like a good little blogger I went up to write it all out. He busts in before I even get to the third sentence with tears and more yelling and such. I point out that he was raining down on me the same shit that he said he didn't want, only a thousand fold. He admitted he was... and nothing changed. He admits to being a twat but still can't hear me when I say I am profoundly fucking unhappy and sad. All he can say is that all the work I have been doing is outstanding but ignores it when I say it is killing me body and soul. When I say that I feel like I am disappearing because the navaho white wall of the house don't encompass a place for me to create anything all he does is nod his head. As if to say that is a drag but isn't everything here so nice.

Nice. I am coming to hate nice. Everyone has to be so nice. And aren't cookie cutter houses nice. And aren't perfect lawns nice. And isn't Mervyn's so nice. That shopping mall is so Nice. And why don't we do the same Nice crap until we are nicely just like everyone else, marching through their nice lives making sure to buy the same nice stuff that is going to make them nicely happy little hollow fucks.

It all came to nothing. I had to go to sleep. I had nothing left. Nothing for him. Nothing left for the boys. And nothing left for me. I was too tired to even eat dinner. As I went to sleep that message on my voice mail plays back in my head.

It is still playing now.