Monday, July 19, 2010

Sometimes I don't want 3

Have you ever been that girl? The one who avoids all her friends to simply spend her every waking and sometimes sleeping moment with her man? Have you ever been the friend?

Generally, I'm not that girl, but I once was. I was once the girl who would ditch my girls to cuddle next to my boyfriend at night. I'd spend an hour on the phone while they watched a movie without me at a sleepover. I'd skip that party to sneak out for a late night walk by the bridge. But that girl has been long gone... 9 years ago gone.

I'm pretty good about sharing myself and my man with our friends. We have fun in big groups and small groups ... we generally don't mind the 3rd wheel, but sometimes... well sometimes I don't want to be 1 of 3.

When being part of a long distance relationship with limited time together, you begin to look at every minute like a rare rainbow that you need to take in and cherish. You feel like every minute should be quality time (that does mean having sex repeatedly in an effort to satiate your physical desires for the time lost). You feel like every minute should be spent absorbing each others' aura because in a few hours, it'll be over and the scent of him lingering on your clothes is all you'll have left.

Needless to say then, this weekend was hard for me on many levels. Arriving after a long long long wait to get on a flight (standby) and being utterly exhausted due to the time and due to the stress of my trip, I was thrown into a home that I wasn't completely comfortable in, meeting Paul's roommate, a man I don't know, and taken to a bar that I didn't necessarily want to go to. Quality time to me, does not require an audience and does not require beer. I've never met him before though, so I tried to make the best of it and get to know him. We was nice enough. Younger. Friendly. Funny. Sarcastic. It was fine... but I was tired and not in the mood.

Saturday we toured around Chicago and I was simply miserable. Public transport in Chicago does not hold a dime to the MTA. Thank you, NYC MTA, for all those times I've complained about the F train, I take it back. You are more than perfect compared to the "L" and the "T". We walked around in 90+ degree heat doing the tourist thing... but I dont like the tourist thing, so after seeing the infamous bean, I was pretty much done. I was even underwhelmed with the dirty bean, finger prints everywhere. Apparently the only fun thing to do with this said bean is take pictures, but my tricycle of a party didn't care to... as usual. And Paul can be selfish during picture time... not just does he not want to be in any pictures but he doesn't really want to take pictures of you either. He blames the complication of the SLR... the fact that he'd press 1 button, the same as his phone or any other camera doesn't matter to him. So basically that was a wash.

The heat was getting to me so we were back on the horrid "L" to go to rib fest... where we gorged on ribs. That was good... for a while. I mean, it was a street closed to rib vendors. After eating, there is very little else to do. They wanted to go to China Town for bubble tea... I protested but was vetoed. I mean... honestly, who rides on this damned "L" longer than necessary for bubble tea. Bubble tea is little more than tapioca dumped in a glass of iced tea. It is NOT worth an extra stop on the "L" let alone multiple. So instead we took the "L" and a bus to the beach... which was disturbing to say the least.

The beach isn't like NY... its attached to a lake, not an ocean. It's small by comparison. And it was crowded ... much much much more crowded with both tan and white, fat and skinny, toned and floppy.... with all colors and walks of life... it was filled... to it's sweaty brim. It was go home time for me... but nope... it was bar time for them. So yet again I found myself... with Paul and his roommate at yet another bar, sipping on a beer I didn't want to drink. Shortly after we went to yet another bar to meet with Paul's Mom and her friend. We had yet another drink... until it was past 9 and we were back on the "L" to get to the car which we'd have to drive home.

The combination of the vittles consumed and the time we arrived home, the need of a shower and my utter tiredness, our romantic date night was already foiled. My stomach was in shambles and I was exhausted beyond comprehension. After a shower I was asleep happy to have a few moments alone. Yes. I flew all the way to Chicago and did more nothing than anyone could ever comprehend... and at the end of the day, all I wanted was to sleep. Alone. And yes... was cranky, ungrateful, and depressed.

Sunday came and I begged Paul to do brunch alone... it was probably the nicest hour or 2 I spent while in Chicago. We then went to Best Buy, got Paul's roomie, went to the movies (yep... movie with 3 people, not the regular date night 2), ran errands and then finally grabbed my bags and went to the airport.

Normally the last thing I want to do is leave Paul... but I couldn't get on that plane fast enough. I wanted out of that city, I wanted out of that car, I wanted out of that house. I wanted home more than I could possibly explain.

Paul and I need to get something strait... and we need to get it strait fast because it will only get worse. We are different and we don't like the same things. When I am around, I want to spend it with him! Not him and his roommate. Not sitting in the back seat of the car alone or worse yet with his annoying roommate unable to even hold his hand. I don't mind going out for a few drinks... but we are 28 and 29 years old, we do not need a chaperon. I don't need to spend hours traveling to go hang out at a bar with him and his roommate. This coming year, Paul will be moving back to Boston but rather than a dorm, he'll be rooming with 2 other guys in a house or apartment. I don't know how I'll feel when visiting. It depends on how intrusive his roommates will be. It will depend on how Paul acts while I'm there. He says I never visit him... but now he knows why. I was much more inclined to make the trip to Detroit, but even then he came to NY more. At least then the excuse was that I had to work longer hours than he did and therefore he had the travel flexibility. Not like now, where I'd rather simply stay home alone.

His parting words to me were that I was miserable company. That I had no friends. That I shouldn't visit anymore. And I'm sure he said more. Maybe he's right. I was miserable company... mostly because I was miserable with the situation and the company I was with. I don't have many friends... because I chose to only keep a few... ones who bring my up rather than down. And not visiting him anymore won't be a problem. I don't enjoy it... and won't torture myself.

I could hardly call what I did this weekend ... visiting Paul. I more or less witnessed his new lifestyle and that's about it.

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