Saturday was difficult. it's taken me a while to figure out all the reasons why. of course, there was the general oddness of dealing with an ex. there was me projecting some old hostilities as the boy acted in a way that reminded me oh so very much of my ex-husband. there was the awkwardness of sitting across the room staring at each other, trying not to say all the crap on your mind because it just isn't productive. too much has been said already, i think.
but that wasn't it. i had asked him earlier in the week for a little support - maybe lob a few jokes my way? hell, i was asking everyone for support last week. layoffs will do that to you. and he never got back to me. turns out that he knew all along why i was stressed out. huh. so he knew about the layoffs, and didn't even toss a 'hey, that sucks' in my general direction. that bums me out a lot. there's no visible concern or compassion there. i wrestled with that one for a while, and came to grips with the fact that there is no re-building of friendship. we're back at square one, or earlier. it's building a whole new thing.
so, awkward conversation is happening in my living room, as i wedge the baseball hat a little lower over my unshowered head, feeling all skanky and miserable. i had asked him to call before coming over. i was going to shower after i got back from running my errands, because that's generally the thing i do before facing people in public (no, the grocery store clerk didn't count). but when i got home, hot, sweaty, dragging a half dozen grocery bags, he was sitting in front of my house. he thought that i must be home, and just wasn't answering the phone. no, i pointed out, i told you i was going to run errands, and would you please call before coming over. he said he did call. which he did. twice. and then he just came over, assuming it was okay. which it wasn't. no shower for me, which compounded the uncomfortableness i felt. finding him on my doorstep, i felt he hadn't respect my request. and that violates some basic personal comfort boundaries. i have a right to determine who takes part in my life, and when.
::sigh:: more conversation, and i told him that i'm not mad at him. mad at his choices, yes. but not mad at him. he is not defined by his choices. i'm not sure if he believed me. and frankly, it's not my problem. he can take it or leave it. what's important for me is being able to say how i feel. and i don't mean that in a callus way. it's just that his emotional health is no longer my business in the way that it used to be. my emotional health, on the other hand, certainly is.
he tried to give me his camera. i found this obscurely insulting. i don't want his gifts or his charity, and giving me a camera certainly doesn't relieve him of the responsibility for his actions. he was insistent, and i told him that the only thing i want is his friendship. period. end of story. no peace offerings, just an honest effort at friendship, if that's what he wants too.
then he got up to leave, and i stood to walk him to the door. he stepped towards me, to give me a hug goodbye. 'no', sharp and tense, tumbled from my mouth. he stopped short, blinking. 'what?' 'there are some rights you no longer have.' 'i didn't know that it was a right.' my mind slowly exploded in red, and i heard myself from a distance repeating 'there are some rights you no longer have' to his retreating back.
being in my personal space is most definitely a right, and not one that i grant lightly. i am not a door prize for the taking; i am not a chew toy. my body, my life, my space are exactly that - mine. do not assume, any one, that you have rights to any of it that i do not choose to grant you.
it took a long time to recenter after all that. i have a feeling that it will be a long time before we talk again, which might be good. the boy broke my heart, and i can only take so much of this at once. then again, who knows.