I've Got a Golden Ticket

Ok, so, in hindsight, I miiiight have bought too many couch pieces.

If that photo seems chaotic, let me assure you that having all of these Lovesac pieces scattered around the house at the same time was much, MUCH more chaotic than the photos convey. I needed to sell the theater set in preparation for the recliners, and I wanted to keep the black bear phur covers that were on them. Figured that, as long as I'm stripping the covers off these, I might as well pull the ones with brand new inserts and swap them for older pieces I'm keeping, which meant disassembling ALL the pieces around the house. Took me staying up late three full days after work to get it all sorted, but I think it was worth it. The pieces I listed just sold today for $1200 (nice couple - I hope they enjoy them as much as they thought they would) and I should have another $800 or so in covers ready to sell on eBay soon. All in all gonna get about half my recliners paid for. Not too shabby.

I fell asleep smiling for the first time in a long time last night. CEO of our company told me the other day that he thought IT workers qualified for a vaccine already. I did some digging and, while we're not listed on the Maryland state site, the more detailed county breakdown and the CDC recommendations place IT & Communications workers on the essential list and therefore group 1C. Good enough for me! I did my research, set up shop on the computer at 11pm last night to start refreshing pharmacy pages, and scored a Walgreens appointment by 12:30. I'll have to drive an hour, but my first dose is Monday and I'm STOKED. After 51 weeks in near total isolation at home, the light at the end of the tunnel just moved about 4-5 months closer in a flash. I might even get to be out a little during spring weather. Really needed that.

I'd say something about hoping for minimal side effects, but honestly I hardly care right now. Even if I get hit with bad ones, what's one more week of feeling like crap weighed against several months of feeling ok living somewhat normally again?

The Hippy Hippie (hop and ya don't stop?) messaged me again the other day for the first time in several months. Nice to hear from her again, and I'll likely be visiting her down in NoVa for a campfire or something once the weather nicens up. I mean, or she'll disappear again. That seems a very real option too. But that's ok. Seems to be pretty common. Girls be flighty these days. Or maybe I'm just really boring these days.

Both? Probably both.

I did have a similar thought the other day. Thinking all the way back to late high school and early college, my time dating Ditz. Ditz and I, both technically virgins at the time, dated for three years up until sophomore year of college. While we fooled around, she was never ready for honest-to-goodness consummate-the-marriage sex. And I never pushed her on it. We had the discussion, but she didn't feel ready and it didn't feel like a caring boyfriend would guilt her or start giving ultimatums about such a decision. I cared about her for more than just sex, right? Then I'll respect her enough to accept her decision about her body and appreciate the other aspects of what we had. She'll come around when she's ready, right?

Wrong.

I remember sitting in my dorm room alone those days. After three years of really trying, of caring about her and seeing past the hiccups we had and respecting those decisions and figuring we'd be married in a few years, she dumped me for some trumpet player that had hit on her a little. When our relationship moved from high school to college, we largely stuck together instead of branching out. Neither of us drank, so we did our own thing together instead of going to dorm parties. I knew the people in my dorm, but I wasn't a part of their group, so to speak. So now here I sat, a newly single doughy 20 year old virgin whose entire social circle revolved around the person that had just yanked the rug out from under him. And for what? Some trumpet jackoff she didn't really know.

As an aside, this was the time I would spend 4-5 hours playing guitar each day. I was not a good student at college, but I got to be a pretty decent guitarist.

Noodles & Company, 2 months later, will forever be etched into my mind. The little two-top against the wall right next to the line for food, me facing the ordering counter and Ditz facing the rest of the tables behind me. A box of my misc things she had gathered from her apartment on the floor next to us. Our first time seeing each other since she dumped me, she had asked to meet me here so she could give me my stuff. We had tried to make small talk for a few minutes, but it was largely just awkward silence. Then, I could see the moment she decided and set her cunning plan into motion. Her expression changed, she looked up slowly at me with well rehearsed sad eyes,

“Do you… do you think there can ever be another… us… again?”

She caught me off guard. This, I did not expect. I knew she and Trumpet had only lasted a month (likely because she wasn't putting out, if I were to guess), but I hadn't predicted she'd be back so soon. So it was not at all rehearsed when I heard my own voice, calm and firm, reply,

“No. I don't. Definitely not anytime soon. Probably not ever.”

The weight that came off my shoulders with those words, having made a decision for myself and stood up for it, without a care in the world for how it would make her feel, was instant. Like I had just all at once dumped every last bit of her baggage from the prior 3 years on the floor next to my box.

Ditz did not seem to share my relief.

The rest of the evening would be spent carefully and quietly considering how good I suddenly felt and powering through my Japanese pan noodles while Ditz cried into her bowl of untouched Pasta Fresca. Every student who walked through the line forced to stare right at our drama, on full display right in the middle of the dinner rush. Top three most sociopathic moment of my life thus far?

… Ehhhhh nah. But definitely top ten.

She was still crying when we walked out. It had gotten dark. She gathered her bike and I carried my box of apartment things, feeling good, no longer harboring the resentment I had been carrying for her for two months. I offered to walk her back to her apartment - I couldn't bring myself to let this crying college girl walk her bike the mile through PG county at night alone - and she accepted. The walk went exactly as dinner did, me happily gazing up at the sunset and Ditz slowly walking her bike, forlorn, head down, sobbing.

Something shifted about her when we got to the front steps of her apartment. Looking back, I can see this is when she made up her mind. The tears stopped. Her eyes were open again. She stepped in and gave me as very big, very long hug. It was unexpected, but felt good. I hadn't hugged anybody in months. She asked, in a suddenly clear choice, if I wanted to try some of the schnapps she had scored. This was when I caught on to what was happening. And I quickly made up my mind as well. It was several hours later and much darker when I regathered my box of things and started the long walk back to my dorm, pondering everything that had just happened.

The story has obviously been with me for a long time now. But it wasn't until recently that I made the connection to Ice Queen.

When Ice Queen and I started dating, we were both strong personalities. We bounced back and forth off each other constantly, sometimes her leading, sometimes me leading. On our second date she was the one who scootched up to me on the park bench and leaned in to me chest before I had the courage to put my arm around her and pull her close, but I was the one that stepped in and cupped her cheek in my hand for the first kiss on the second floor of the parking garage before she drove away. There was an ebb and a flow to it, and it worked well.

Later, when things started to deteriorate between us, I would learn that she was secretly resenting me for some of the times I tried to lead. At the time I thought I was being the assertive, confident male that so many women had responded to, but she was quietly tallying these transgressions against me, and it showed. She stopped responding to me. Stopped leaving me the space to be assertive or confident. The moment assertiveness or confidence appeared in me, she squashed it. Hard.

She would tickle me sometimes. As much as I can appreciate the playful flirty nature of ticking, I hate being tickled. She knew this. She would start playfully threatening to tickle me and I would playfully warn her against it. I'd let her know that I'd have to grab her wrists to stop her. As much as I hated being tickled, she hated having her wrists grabbed. So I'd warn her. And she'd laugh. And she'd tickle me anyway. And I'll grab her wrists anyway. And she'd punch me in balls.

Read that again.

That's not me being funny. That is literally what happened. On several occasions. She would take the lead to initiate, and I would warm her off what that would mean, and she would do it anyway, and when I would respond in turn she would literally take a hand and punch me in the balls. Not full force, but enough to take the wind out of me and crumple me into a ball on the bed.

Looking back, I should have sent her packing. Should have seen it for what it was and told her to take her purse and get the fuck out. But I didn't. I suffered this indignity in confused silence on several occasions. This was the girl I loved, right? I had written off my other prospects so that I could, every few months, drive 5 hours to see this one for a weekend. Love takes sacrifices, yes?

I drove several hours to get to the wedding. Had my suit ironed and ready and hit the road. I didn't know but a few of Ice Queen’s friends that would be there, and my introvert side was feeling like I was writing a blank check showing up to an Indian wedding without knowing what would be expected of me there, but Ice Queen would be there in a dress and I hadn't seen her in 4-5 months and that was enough for me. I was going.

I don't remember much about the wedding itself. Maybe I had let the one or two Bollywood clips I had ever seen go to my imagination, but it didn't seem as over the top as I worried it might be. Most of what I remember is being elated to see my girl after so long apart. And her in the dress. That was why I was there, and she was worth it.

I made it through the wedding and we got back to the hotel room. It had the bed, a little sitting area with a couch, and a nice big tiled shower stall. I couldn't WAIT to get her back there. Almost half a year without her. A full wedding dressed up with her. And here we were. Alone. Finally.

I showered alone and cried myself to sleep that night. Didn't even get to cuddle. She had pushed me away from the start. She was tired. She had a headache. She just needed to rest. There was a period where she was pretending to sleep just to rebuff any advances I might try. I tried for some time to figure out what I was supposed to do. What I was doing wrong to cause her to respond to me this way. Eventually, out of options, I dragged myself to the shower, rejected and dejected, hours from home, for a wedding i didn't care about and a girl that didn't seem to care about me.

The drive home was a long one for me.

Ice Queen had finally finished school and made it back home, only an hour away instead of the five hours I had been driving. She invited me down for the evening - she and her dad and his girlfriend were going to my absolute favorite restaurant in the area and they wanted me to join. I was coming down after a workout, and I specifically skipped the meal after so I could rush down and enjoy this instead.

Traffic was bad on the way (wasn't it always?) so it was every bit of the hour and then some on the road. Texts flew back and forth with status updates and dreams of the impending crab dip and cajun egg rolls - staples of ours when we'd go. I finally made it and walked in, starving. Not a lot of fanfare, a quick hello, drop off my things in her room before we go again.

As I was in her room, she approached, all puppy dog eyes and sweet tone. Did I reaaaaaaally want to go to my favorite place? The one we had been talking about this whole time? The one I skipped my meal for and rushed down to join them for? Because she kiiiiind of wanted to go to her favorite place now.

I froze. I knew what she wanted me to say. But I had been really excited for this. I had driven down here for it. We had talked the whole time about it. Was she really going to upend that now? I stammered, “well… I mean… I kinda was really… I was looking forward to…”

Her sweet tone disappeared in a flash. In its place was an accusatory yell. She interrupted, “YOU JUST WANT TO GO THERE FOR THE BEER!!” and she ran out of the room and down the hall to tell her father that we wanted to go to her favorite place now. Me still standing in the room. Trying to make sense of what was happening.

As luck would have it, they would ultimately draw straws between each of our four restaurant choices and mine happened to be the one pulled. Karma was watching over us that day. But it hardly changed how I felt about being left standing there, alone in her room, once again ignored and shouted down when I attempted to stand up for myself in the relationship.

To this day, I wish I would grabbed my bag and left. I can get my own food. But I didn't. I still loved her. She said she was trying to work on things for me. This was the girl I had quietly opened an engagement ring savings account for at a time when I had almost no money. Love takes sacrifices, right?

My drive home that night was when I seriously decided that this wouldn't work long term. The restaurant choice blow up set it in stone. But the housing choice was the straw that broke the boyfriend’s back.

For weeks, we were discussing housing options for us. That was the plan, after all. The thing I had waited three years for. She was to finish school and we could finally move in together and live happily ever after. I had initially really wanted to play with the idea of getting out of the area for awhile, seeing what other parts of the country were like. No, she said. She wanted to live in Loundon and that was always her dream. Ok, I said. I guess I'm living in Loundon then.

We talked area. I didn't know that area, so she told me about Leesburg. A nice small town vibe but close to everything. We went and drove around once. Ok. Sure. I set my mind to Leesburg for my future. Which is when she told me about Ashburn.

… WAIT I HAD JUST SETTLED INTO THE LEESBURG IDEA. Yes she knows but Ashburn is green and there's more space and it's closer to what she knows. We went there and drove around once. You know what? Fine. Okay. This wasn't my area anyway. Ashburn then. I once again adjusted my life plans to match what she dictated to me. Which is when she told me about Sterling…

I had lived in my condo for 7 years. I was ready to get out and have some space. No, she said. A house was too much all at once. She wanted a condo and her mind was made up. This one I really tried. I did NOT want to go from one condo to another. But no. Her mind was made up. I didn't have a say. I started making plans to call off the relationship.

A few weeks later, she had a brilliant idea. Maybe a townhouse would be good! I sat in stunned silence as she made my case for a townhouse back to me. I seriously thought she was joking at first. She was not. It became very clear that my preferences for the house we would buy together and where we would live mattered so little to her that she didn't even hear it. Hadn't seriously considered it. She just told me no offhandedly, absentmindedly, more a matter of course than any sort of consideration of what I had been saying.

She hadn't considered what I was saying. Regarding our future together.

What I finally see, the connection I recently made, was that this was the moment I looked up from my Japanese pan noodles and stood up for myself. I wish it could have been as calm and firm as the first time - the disbelief and raw anger for how I had been treated all this time was still too hot for that - but I finally said no. Definitely not anytime soon, and probably not ever.

And you know what happened? After years of being pushed aside, rejected, ignored, and overruled, I finally put my foot down and you know what she did?

She heard me. Possibly for the first time in years, but she finally heard me.

Too late.

I occasionally look back on both of these times in my life now. Both where things had once been fantastic, and I let my guard down and started caring about someone else more than I did myself, and both led me to a dark place where I felt like I was without merit. My putting my partner before me wasn't reciprocated, it was just accepted. Appreciated at first, but over time became normal. Expected. To the point that any attempt by me to advocate for myself seemed out of character, like something was wrong. Thinking I was being a considerate boyfriend, I cared myself into a corner devoid of the sort of respect that a healthy relationship needs.

And you know what? Maybe that's on me.

In both cases, it wasn't until I put my foot down and stood up for myself that the “no”s became “okay”s. What if I had advocated for myself sooner? What if I made it clear early on that I wouldn't be walked on, just some lovestruck chocolate lab mindlessly following and nodding agreement, and pushed for what I wanted to be getting out of the relationship?

I had spent plenty of years feeling like a victim. Like I was trying so hard and giving so much and getting nothing in return. And, well, it's not entirely incorrect - I didn't punch MYSELF in the balls - but not standing up to that sort of dismissive of outright abusive treatment sooner allowed it to continue, and that ultimately doomed the very thing I had been trying to sacrifice for.

I didn't punch myself in the balls, but that part was definitely my fault.

If I have to point to one trait that has historically doomed me in relationships, it is that. I give so much of myself thinking that I'm being the best boyfriend I know to be, but ultimately setting a bad example that can cascade out of control. Boundaries. Expectations. Staying assertive even when it injects tension into the current moment. These things would have helped previous attempts. Hopefully they'll help when I'm up and trying again in earnest, and keep me from being the sort of boring that prospects can disappear on for months at a time.

Happy Vaccination Saturday, world. I'm still only about 80% sure that I'm supposed to be on MD's list, but sometimes I guess you've gotta stand up for yourself if you're ever gonna get what's important to you.

Excited. Optimistic. Ready.

-M