What have I done?

(Originally written on June 2, 2009)

.

Long story short, I “quit” the Chickadee job today.  Remember that drug screen that they made me take on my first day?  Yea…well it came back positive for amphetamines because I take Vyvanse (a time-release Adderall, essentially).  All I had to do was call the doc with my prescription number to substantiate its presence in my system, but I decided simply not to do so.  So technically I got fired, but I really basically quit.  God, I hated that job so much.  Good riddance!

•     •     •     •     •

All throughout this ordeal with Gaston, I have confided in Scarlet and Martyr and sought their advice.  Scarlet has consistently told me from the very beginning – before the shit hit the fan, even – that I need to pull myself out of my “relationship” with Gaston and just move on.  He has also constantly reminded me of how Gaston treats me like shit and that I can do better.  On the other hand, Martyr, being the hopeless romantic idealist that she is, started off telling me that everything would be okay and Gaston and I would end up back together.  However, as Gaston has prolonged the situation, even Martyr has turned to telling me that I should just end it myself.

I called Gaston on my way home from work Thursday evening to see if he would tell me his decision over the phone.  He wouldn’t, of course, and really emphasized that he wanted to talk in person.  He told me that his decision was made, but that my reaction may change his mind.  That’s why it is so imperative that we have the discussion face-to-face.  This convinced me that he was going to end whatever it was between us, yet left me with a little bit of hope that I could salvage our relationship.  How do I need to react in order to change his mind? That question has been flooding my mind ever since then.  However, I’ve still been preparing myself for the “breakup” because I am almost positive that’s what he’s decided to do.

Well, Gaston did come back into town on Sunday, as he said he would, but it wasn’t until late in the evening.  I had been anxiously awaiting his call all day to tell me to come over and we would have our chat.  But I was tired and knew that I had to get up early in the morning and go to work.  I guess I figured that I had already waited so long that one more day couldn’t hurt.  I also didn’t want to bug him any more about it; he got really agitated on Thursday when I asked him to go ahead and tell me over the phone.  It was his responsibility to tell me whenever he was ready.  However, he didn’t even call me on Sunday night, not even to tell me to wait until Monday…

Monday passes (yesterday).  Still haven’t received a single word from Gaston.

I got home from work this afternoon and Gaston’s car was sitting in the parking lot.  That was it; I’d had it.  He said he was finally going to inform me of his decision on Sunday after a month of making me wait and here it’s Tuesday and he hasn’t even texted or called me!  I decided that I was just going to have to end it myself.  I went up to my apartment, fuming, and gathered all the stuff I had that was his:  a jacket, a t-shirt (both of which I made sure to spritz with my perfume), and two computer programs.  All the while, I was thinking about what Scarlet has been telling me to do for so long now.  I walked down to his apartment and knocked on his locked bedroom door.  Thankfully, Napoleon wasn’t there.  When Gaston opened the door and saw me standing there, he asked me,

What is this?

This is all your stuff that I had in my apartment.

Okay…

And regardless of whatever your decision is, this is mine:  I just can’t do this anymore.  I just can’t.  No one has ever made me feel so bad about myself and I have never been so belittled and disrespected by anyone in my entire life – let alone someone who I loved and who supposedly loved me.  I just can’t spend any more tears on you.

So…the part about me wanting to end our relationship:  it’s true, but it isn’t.  Obviously, I was high on anger and Scarlet’s and Martyr’s advice.  I’ve tried so hard to convince myself that it’s true.  I know it should be true and by no means do I enjoy the pain he’s caused me, but, for some reason, I’m still willing to suffer if he’ll just have me.

Well, this (as can be expected, I suppose) upset Gaston and he started pacing frantically.  Then I asked him,

So what was your decision?

Well it wasn’t that.

Then what was it?

You’re never going to know.

WHAT?!  After all this time, I believe I have the right to know.

Well get over it because you never will.  You’ve made the decision, so what I wanted doesn’t matter anymore.

When I asked him why he hadn’t contacted me since he’s been in town, he simply said, “Because it’s hard and it’s not exactly something that I was looking forward to doing.” For nearly three hours we proceeded to debate the decision.  And every time I tried to convince him that what I said wasn’t what I really wanted, he shot back with, “Well it came from somewhere,” or, “You said ‘regardless’ of what my decision was, so it really must be what you want,” or, “Well then why’d you say it?” even though I had explained myself 10 times.  During most of the discussion, we were cuddling on the sofa, holding hands, with me crying (go figure).  At one point, I desperately pleaded,

Remember in February after we decided to just be friends and then got drunk a few days later and I ended up staying the night with you?  We just can’t help but be together.  The next morning you cried and begged me to stay because you told me that you were afraid it was going to be the last time you ever got to lay with me. That happened for a reason; you felt that way for a reason and I refuse to believe that you just don’t feel that way anymore.

The discussion ended with Gaston telling me that no (new) decision would be reached tonight, that we would pick it back up tomorrow and that he would take my explanation(s) into consideration.  Again, the outlook is grim, yet I’m still holding on to that little glimmer of hope.  What have I done?

WTF is wrong with me?

(Originally written on May 14, 2009)

.

At one point this past Sunday (which was Mother’s Day, by the way), Martyr brought up the touchy topic of Gaston and me. Here’s how the conversation went:

I can tell he really likes you, Elliott.

Really?  What makes you say that?

I saw the way he was looking at you the other night [the Friday before graduation, at Polly’s after the MMR dinner].  I could just tell.

She further proceeded to reinforce this notion.  It really made me happy at first – I mean, Martyr often can be full of shit and extra emotional when it comes to amorous love/dating/relationship stuff, especially after the whole ordeal between her and Beast.  It’s just hard to decipher whether it’s true that Gaston actually can’t help but subconsciously emote his feelings toward me without realizing it, or if she just romanticized it within the walls of her own mind.

•     •     •     •     •

I think that Yuengling personally has it out for me – I’m not sure why he would, but it’s becoming harder and harder to overlook and dismiss my suspicions.  First off, when he kissed me and I told him it wasn’t okay, he went and told Gaston about it a week later (apparently because he felt he needed to “come clean” to his friend), portrayed it as a mutual-attraction occurrence, and didn’t tell me about his having done that (Gaston told me about it during the blog confrontation).  I never mentioned it to Gaston because I felt it was an irrelevant mistake on Yuengling’s part and I saw it as water under the bridge.  So Yuengling’s portrayal to Gaston that the kiss was mutual made me look as though I was trying to hide it from Gaston or something.  Anyways, moving on…  Then, whenever anything goes wrong between Gaston and me, he is the first to tell me that it’s over (he actually makes it a point to immediately say it) – even going so far as to say that Gaston asserted that “fact” himself.  Then, he told “only Slim” at Polly’s about my blog (Leto told me that she found out about it from Yuengling too), but once he realized that I knew, he sent me the e-mail blaming me for it!  Not just that, but he and Leto propagated the charades by lying to me, telling me that Gaston didn’t know about it, when in actuality they were both present for several occasions at Polly’s when everyone had been giving him a hard time about it (for who knows how long).

I can’t figure out what I could have possibly done to cause his repeated betrayal to me like this.

Anyways, this leads right in to what happened last night:

Yuengling, Leto, Gaston, and I went to a bluegrass show.  Afterwards, we decided to go to Polly’s (what a surprise), which is on the completely opposite side of downtown.  Once we were about four blocks away from the venue, I realized that I may have left my camera there, so I stopped dead in my tracks and began to dig through my massive cluttered purse to look for it, just to be sure.  The three of them all continued walking for a block before even noticing that I wasn’t still with them.  Upon this realization, they briefly paused and yelled back at me to see why I had stopped.  As soon as I told them that I thought I left my camera, they all then continued walking in the opposite direction toward Polly’s, leaving me alone to fend for myself in a sketchy part of town.

I had walked nearly a block when an SUV abruptly pulled up next to where I was on the sidewalk and a guy hopped out and came after me, hitting me in the face in the process.  Somehow – and I have absolutely no idea how – I managed to get away, running the rest of the way to the bluegrass venue.  Incredibly, the other guy stayed in the car the whole time and they didn’t try to come back for me.

When I got there, sure enough, my camera was still on top of the table where we had been sitting.  Up to this point, I had been able to fend off tears, even though I was overwhelmingly distraught – I was quivering with adrenaline and shock.  However, once I got my camera, I uncontrollably burst into teary waterworks.  I called Gaston in attempt to tell him what had happened and seek his comfort, but he didn’t answer his phone.  I called him again and when he didn’t answer, I left a voicemail.  About five minutes later, he called me back, not having listened to my message.  Of course, he asked me why I was crying.  I didn’t feel like repeating the story; I didn’t want to think about it (even though I couldn’t help but do so).  He became angry and hung up on me once I asked him to listen to his voicemail.  What a bastard!  He had no idea what I had just gone through!  And made it obvious that he wasn’t interested in finding out by refusing to simply listen to my message.

I continued to walk to Polly’s by myself, balling my eyes out the entire way.  Once I got there, I saw that my wonderful trio of friends was yukking it up at the back of the bar.  On my way to the bathroom to try to clean myself up a bit and grab some tissues, I passed them without saying a word – or even looking at them.  I then walked back past them in the same manner, sat down at a table at the front of the bar with my back to them, and ordered a double bourbon.

Less than 10 minutes later, Gaston comes up to me to inform me that they have decided on “a change of scenery” and to invite me to go along with them.  Still crying, I shake my head no.  Then,

What’s wrong?

Have you listened to the message I left you?

Yea.

That’s what’s wrong.

Well we’re leaving, so are you still gonna sit here and be angry?  Or are you gonna come with us?

What do you fucking think?  After what had just happened – someone tried to fucking abduct me!  What does he think?  That I was asking for that, I was looking for that?

I think I replied with something along the lines of, “Go ahead, leave me,” and then he got angry at me and stormed out of the bar to where Yuengling and Leto were waiting for him.

Who is he to place the blame on me – like I have no right to be angry with him for just leaving me to walk along by myself through a sketchy part of town to get my camera when he’s gotten mad at me for every time I’ve walked home?  That cannot be placed on me.  That is him.  I have to remember that it’s HIM.  He didn’t care enough to walk with me this one time (which goes to show all those times he got upset with me were just bullshit and he didn’t REALLY care) and after realizing what resulted from that, he didn’t care enough to apologize or even TRY to be there for me.  I HAVE to remember that.

On top of all of this, Yuengling had driven the four of us downtown and he – probably even more so than Gaston – is (usually) overprotective and gets upset with me whenever I walk home by myself.  So after I finished my double bourbon, I texted him saying that I was ready to go home and asked him when he was planning on leaving downtown.  Even after I explained to him what had happened (via text), he still just nonchalantly told me to find another way home.

Other than Gaston and company, I have very few friends left in town.  After graduation, everyone either moved back home to be with family or got jobs and relocated for that purpose.  I called Ursula to see if she could pick me up and she actually answered her phone for once.  However, she was downtown drinking, herself.  So that was a no-go.  Thankfully, I was able to get in touch with Flower-Child and she picked me up and drove me home, all the while consoling me about the whole evening’s turn of events.  She was my saving grace.

•     •     •     •     •

Even though I knew that I should just let it be, I approached Gaston in his apartment this afternoon to confront him about last night’s events.  Basically, he claimed that he couldn’t be held at fault because he “can’t read my mind to know what I want”.  To me, it’s not about that, but about honestly caring for a friend and wanting to be there for them when they need you (which I obviously did last night)…

At any rate, we then got onto the topic of our “relationship” or whatever it is that you want to call it.

I don’t understand how, if you really feel so strongly about me, you aren’t willing to work through this.

How can we work through this?  What is there to work on?  You put my life up on the internet and everyone’s read it.

Why can’t we be whatever we were and then if you decide you don’t want it, just end it then?

Because everything’s changed!

Then why are you having such a hard time making your decision?  That’s a sign.

I’M JUST NOT SURE YOU’RE WORTH MY TIME!

Wow…  Just not sure if I’m worth his time…  Who does he think he is? That statement made me furious and put me on the defensive.  This time, my tears were a mix of desolation combined with anger,

Then why have you been misleading me, giving me false hope?  What was going through your mind when you slept with me last week?!  What about the other night when we were watching Spinal Tap?!  The cuddling and the holding hands and the kissing – that was all you!

I can’t help that I’m human and I have weak moments.  I realized at the time that it was a mistake and that I probably shouldn’t have been doing it, but I did.

All I can say right now is:  wow, how can I have been so foolish and let this bastard get so deep under my skin and put me through such anguish?

A New Chapter

(Originally written on May 11, 2009)

.

It has gotten to the point where I’ve lost hope in finding an ideal job and I have just started applying to anything and everything for which I think I stand any realistic chance whatsoever at being hired for.  Just this past Wednesday, I was extended an offer as a summer intern at a poultry company and I accepted it.  By no means is this what I think of as an exciting company to work for, but some source of income is way better than no source of income.  This company, we’ll call it Chickadee, currently has absolutely no marketing research department at the moment, so I’m basically going to be their guinea pig.  I’m kinda excited about it, though, because they want to make use of my graphic design skills in addition to the research and statistics.  I know that I will be working at their corporate office, but I can’t help but picture in my mind that I will be driving up to the building through a field of chicken houses.  It’s also discouraging knowing that it’s a one-hour commute (one-way, two hours roundtrip) away.

This was also the same day of my final client project presentation for the company that sent me out to Cincinnati for a second interview over spring break and then didn’t even offer me a job – they instead gave it to the biggest idiot in our class who just happens to have mastered the art of schmoozing.  Nevertheless, out of the six of us on the student project team, five interviewed with them, four received second interviews, two were extended job offers, and one accepted.  So, really, none of us wanted to be there, except, perhaps, the one who accepted their job offer.  Needless to say, the lunch preceding the presentation was the longest hour-and-a-half of my life. For example, they asked us if anyone was taking a vacation to celebrate graduating.  There was a seven-second hesitation/pause/dead silence before we each went around the table and all just plainly and bluntly said, “No”.  After that torturous lunch, the presentation just couldn’t end soon enough.  And then we got stuck in rush-hour traffic and our hour-and-twenty-minute drive home became two hours long.  It was excruciating.

Meanwhile, in the midst of all of that, Bacchus finally got back to me and told me that they want to fly me out to California in a week.  I’m excited about going there and checking everything out for myself, but I’m still basically internally knocking it out of contention because I don’t want to move so far away where I know absolutely no one.

•     •     •     •     •

By the way, I forgot to mention last time that when Gaston found out the web address of my blog and read it, he immediately showed it to Napoleon (and probably called Tomboy and told her about it too).  If he was so extremely embarrassed by my publishing of his “life” on the internet, WHY THEN SHOW IT TO MORE OF HIS FRIENDS?

Anyway, as far as avoiding Gaston and everyone associated with him…that’s not going so well (My weakness is pretty predictable, isn’t it?).  Gaston still hasn’t made any decision as to whether or not he wants to continue whatever it was that we had going on between us before the blog eruption.  I also forgot to make mention of this last time:  during the blog confrontation, Gaston told me that he was “really starting to love [me]” and that he hasn’t fallen for a girl this hard since Heartbreaker, the “benchmark” girlfriend, if you will, who tore out his heart right after high school and continued to stomp on it for a couple years afterward (he compares – or I should say, compared – everything in our “relationship” to that one).  Given that he feels so strongly that way, why is this decision so hard for him?  If you really love someone, why drag them along like this?

Yuengling thinks Gaston and I are done.  Again.  Before we all went downtown on Thursday night and it was just the two of us in the apartment, I asked Gaston if I could spend the night with him and he replied, “Sure, if you want to.  I don’t care.”  Then I asked him if he would ever spend the night at my apartment again and he told me, “We’ll have to see,” in a skeptic tone, not optimistically.  But he’s always that way, so I didn’t think much of it.  Well, once we were at Polly’s and I was talking with Yuengling about the whole blog situation, he informed me that Gaston had told him about my asking to stay the night and (apparently) played it up to Yuengling in a “I can’t believe she can’t tell that I’m done with her” sort of way, as though he’s made his decision obvious to me.  Why would Gaston even tell him about that?  I know that he did because he was the only person in the apartment with me when I asked!  That is just completely unnecessary to me.  Anyways, in conjunction with Yuengling’s belief that Gaston and I are over, Yuengling also said that Gaston would never actually tell me his decision and would just wait for it to fade or “prompt” me to do it.  I asked Yuengling if Gaston actually said those words and he responded, “No, it’s just his type.”  How comforting.

•     •     •     •     •

Completely opposite of what I just described above, last night Gaston invited me over (yes, you read that correctly, he instigated it) to just hang out and watch TV.  He ended up convincing me to watch This Is Spinal Tap with him.  I had never seen it before and thought it was going to be, like, a documentary about a death metal band (and I’m not a big fan of that particular genre of music).  I don’t know why I was under that impression…  The band name “Spinal Tap” just makes me think of it that way I guess…  Nevertheless, it was actually really good!

Throughout the whole movie, Gaston was being so affectionate.  He was playing with my hands, sweetly kissing me, pulling me closer to cuddle with him…  And after the movie, there was no attempt from either of us toward hooking up and I simply went back to my apartment to go to bed.  I can’t quite describe how amazing it felt.  Genuine and – dare I say – loving.

It really pulled at my heartstrings and makes me feel more confident that Gaston really does want to be with me.

•     •     •     •     •

On another note, I am done with school for FOREVER!  What a relief – even though I would feel a little better having the cushioning of a real job…  I have been awaiting this moment for quite some time now:  no more studying, no more tests, no more class, no more seminars!  Woo-hoo!

Cinco De Mayo

(Originally written on May 5, 2009)

.

I am currently sitting in my apartment playing Power Hour by myself with Kings of Leon songs.  Earlier this evening, I went out with Scarlet to Los Compadres for multiple margaritas.  Regrettably, Gaston was supposed to go with me.  Obviously, that didn’t happen.

Gaston just revealed to me on Sunday that he, too, knew the web address of my blog and had read it.  There has been nothing but disaster since then.  I just don’t understand, even now, why he waited over a week to tell me about it – especially since he was embarrassed by it and knew that our other friends had been reading it (even though I had no clue).  Apparently, whenever I’m not at Polly’s, they all call him “Gaston” now – including the employees.

I mean, I fully understand his being upset, but WHY WAIT TO TELL ME?!  Not just that, but he had been exceptionally caring and sweet to me during that period leading up to the disastrous revelation.  I mean, he was kissing me in public, holding my hand, dancing with me, cuddling, and sleeping with me – all things that he doesn’t normally do, let alone, instigate.  How can you do those things with someone when you’re fuming inside with anger at them?

Earlier today, he said that he would definitely consider giving me a second chance.  Then, later on (about three or four hours later), he blew up:  he had previously promised that he would go to Los Compadres with me since Teddy had been asking to meet him; he was waiting on Whitie to call him to take him to get a prescription filled (Whitie is legally blind, as many albinos are, and therefore can’t drive); there was an MMR Cinco de Mayo party going on starting at 3pm that I missed because I was waiting on the call from Gaston telling me that he was ready to go.  I knew another party that he was going to started at 8pm, so at 7pm I decided to come down and ask him about going to Los Compadres since he hadn’t answered any of my calls or texts; I was locked out and he told me he’d come let me in in a minute.  I waited for 15 minutes before going up to my apt to get my “break-in” card.  Even after that, he made me wait a few minutes outside of his locked bedroom door before opening it.

Turns out that he was just locked in his room playing a computer game the whole time.  That’s why I was kept waiting outside, being eaten alive by mosquitoes.

I then asked him if he still wanted to go to Los Compadres with me since it was already 7:30pm and I, with the information he had previously provided me with, knew that he had the birthday party to go to at 8pm.

As I said earlier, he was receptive to my request for a second chance.   At this point, however, he was pissed-off that at 7:30pm he hadn’t realized that he had let the day pass him by.  Thus, I assumed that his anger was due to these inconvenient circumstances (besides his obvious preexisting frustration with me, of course).  Then he realized that he didn’t have a new razor head and “had to” shave with a dull one.  I offered to go grab a new one from my apartment (which would have taken all of 30 seconds…), but he insisted on using his dull one.  Why do that?

So I sat there and we had regular conversation while he was shaving.  Then he checked his phone and finally got my texts about being eaten alive by mosquitoes.  He proceeds to scold me, “You shouldn’t have let them bite you.”  Okay…there was a swarm of probably 20 of them, and you can’t feel it while they’re biting you, only afterwards when you itch.  I had three large welts on my back (I was wearing a floor-length, strapless dress), two on my right arm, and one on my left shoulder.  He then EXPLODED and ensued yelling at me for scratching the bites, “You’re not supposed to scratch them!  They’re going to get infected!”

I know that you aren’t supposed to scratch them, but in all my life, I have been bitten by thousands of mosquitoes (they love me for some reason) and I have always scratched my bites and never once has one of them gotten infected.

In a fit of rage, he left the apartment and I followed him out.  I mentioned that the whole going-to-his-friend’s-birthday-party-tonight thing was probably “more important” than accompanying me to Los Compadres. Then he ERUPTED and started speed-walking to his car, not allowing me to even explain myself:  a couple of weeks ago, he was supposed to go to her dance recital, but he didn’t go because he was hung-over and we were just chilling on the sofa, watching TV.  Finally, I was able to get a word in and explain this, upon which he spat back, “Well I wonder what I was doing instead,” and then furiously drove off, causing my major crisis of the day.

•     •     •     •     •

Yuengling wants to be there for me, but he is the cause of this whole thing in the first place.  I mean, he told Gaston about the time he (Yuengling) kissed me when I was sloshed (after which, I told him that it wasn’t okay) without ever even telling me he felt that was necessary or that he was going to do it.  Then, Napoleon told Gaston that he had seen Yuengling leaving my apartment at 8am one morning.  Okay – there was one time that we accidentally had passed out on my sofa while watching An American Tail:  Fivel Goes West after an evening at Polly’s.  Yuengling and I both agree (conflicting Napoleon’s account) that we woke up by around 4:30am and he definitely left by 5am.

•     •     •     •     •

I am now just deciding to avoid Gaston at all costs.  I have essentially lost almost – no, all – of my friends due to this and have no one other than Angel and Scarlet to turn to for advice.

•     •     •     •     •

I honestly love him.  I know a million people can tell me that I don’t deserve the way he treats me; BUT I also know that a million people would never do to him the disservice that I did by posting our personal interactions publically over the internet.

I have royally fucked myself over.