The Vine: July 17, 2001
Two months ago, my boyfriend of two and a half years, with whom I had been living for a year, broke up with me, claiming we had become incompatible sexually, which he felt would never change and was of utmost importance to him. After dealing with at least three of his freak-outs about commitment, I said fine. I had just gotten a new job, and planned to look for an apartment right away. The assumption was that I would stay in our (his) apartment until I found one, no more than a month. Two days later I get an email at my work insisting that I leave immediately. I was devastated. I had to stay with my best friend and her husband in their Manhattan studio for three weeks. Thank God for great friends. My ex was basically paying most of my living expenses when I lived with him (he told me he wanted to take care of me — watch out for that line, ladies), so I was now extremely poor, relatively. I got an apartment in Brooklyn, am budgeting my ass off, and have accepted the demise of our relationship as the best thing that could have happened to me.
Thing is, there have been a few things I left at his apartment during moving, as well as mail. So, occasionally, I have to go over there and see him. Now, I have always been the type of girl who completely writes off exes as soon as they become so. If he/she wasn’t my friend before we started dating, why should he/she be my friend after? I have enough friends. Plus, he rejected me, went from telling me he loved me to telling me he didn’t, so he’s not my favorite person in the world. Yet, when I see him, he smiles at me and tries to tell me what he’s been up to, or asks how my weekend was. Yesterday, he asked me if I’d like a glass of water or something as I was packing everything up to go (hopefully the last of it!). He said, “It was nice to see you, even for a short time.” Sheesh. I want to have nothing to do with him, and he’s trying to be super-nice. I don’t reciprocate pleasantries like the above, and I’m in and out of his apartment, revealing as little about my life as possible. Can’t he get the hint? He’s friends with all of his exes, but I refuse to give him that. He and I have a lot of mutual friends and mutual haunts (which he’s been avoiding, for now), so I’m sure I’ll see him occasionally.
My question: Am I being too hard? Is this completely unhealthy? I just can’t bring myself to be anything but irritated with him, and I guess I also want to teach him a lesson. He didn’t cheat on me or beat me, but I’m treating him like he’s a serial killer rather than just the wrong guy for me, who ended up dumping me before I could get off my lazy ass to do it. And honestly, I’m still bitter over my financial situation (which is, of course, my fault, not his). I don’t see myself changing my behavior, but tell me, Sars, am I a complete raging bitch?
All My Exes Are Dead To Me
Dear All,
It sounds like your ex wants it both ways — he doesn’t want you as a girlfriend, but he still wants you to like him and think well of him. It’s a natural instinct, but it’s annoying, and I don’t think your reaction is out of line at all.
Maybe you’ll soften towards him eventually and maybe you won’t, but he’s your ex, and he’ll have to learn to live with all that that entails.
Don’t make it about “teaching him a lesson.” Make it about what makes you feel comfortable. If the best you can comfortably manage is cold civility, well, then that’s fine.
Dear Sars —
Your site and your writing for Mighty Big TV rock! I must say, you are a bit of a role model to me. You seem to be living the life that I one day aspire to. Anyways…
Here’s my problem. I’m living in hell. There were some obvious signs before I moved in with the person who was my best friend that I shouldn’t have moved in with her. As in, she emailed me on the day of my grandmother’s funeral and told me I was a bad friend for leaving town without giving her better details when she knew how close to my grandmother I was and what a hurry I had left town in. But I moved in with her anyways.
Things were fine for the first few weeks in May, right after we moved in. The second to last weekend in May, however, things escalated and we began fighting. She was mad at me for never being around the house. I work the night shift at my job and when I am home, I’m asleep. Also, she didn’t like the fact that my boyfriend, who was at home from college for the summer, sometimes came to visit; she said he took up too much time I could have spent with her. She claimed that I was never there for her when she needed me, even though I was and did the best I could in my opinion. As you can see, there wasn’t much of a friendship left to salvage. It’s at the point now where we’re leaving nasty little notes to each other and pretend the other one doesn’t really exists in the house.
However, she’s in the process of moving out and is trying to claim things that are mine as hers. And these are things either I’ve bought myself or my mom has given to me and that I am sure are mine. I’m scared for my possessions, since I feel that she will either steal them or break them. On top of that, I’ve seen her slap and hit my dog for no reason. How do I go about her leaving, since she’s taking her time doing it, so that none of my stuff is stolen or hurt, including my animal? I’m really at wit’s end here and don’t know what to do — I want her gone and out of my life, but I want it to happen in a way to minimize all this drama and keep my possessions safe. Please help me!
Sincerely,
Living In Hell
Dear Living,
First of all, before you do anything else, get the dog out of there. Board her at a kennel, find a friend who can keep her for a couple of weeks, whatever, but get the dog away from your roommate. I had a similar psycho-roomie situation years ago, and if there’s anything I regret about it, it’s leaving Hobey alone with the freakshow I lived with, because I can’t prove anything, but I suspect that he kicked Hobey around, and I’ve never stopped feeling guilty and sorry for letting that happen to the Hobe. You can replace your things, but the dog is another story.
And now, the part where you stop beating yourself up for missing the signs and set about booting this nutbar out of your life. Set a date for your roommate’s final departure — I’d suggest one week — and tell her that, if she’s not out by then, you’ll change the locks and put the rest of her shit on the street. You think it’s best for both of you if she gets out of your life immediately, and you won’t hesitate to facilitate the out-getting by any means necessary. (I assume that, since she’s the one leaving, you’ve got your name on the lease, so you have the right to do that.) Make it clear that, if she doesn’t do it of her own volition, you’ll curb-stop her and her belongings, and if she’s not out by the date you’ve chosen, put her things neatly on the sidewalk and get a locksmith over to your place pronto.
After you’ve laid down the law, rent a storage space or ask a friend to borrow a corner of a room or something, just as a temporary thing (offer to pay rent on it if you want). Move all your valuables out — furniture, jewelry, A/V equipment, whatever might get stolen — until your roommate is gone. Do it now. If she sees you doing it and starts crabbing, inform her evenly that moving your things to a neutral location will avoid “confusion” (read: larceny) while your roommate is packing her own things. She’ll probably throw a fit; don’t engage her. Shrug it off: “What’s it to you? This is my stuff, and you’re leaving anyway.” Bring friends, big ones, for protection and moral support. Once you’ve got all of your possessions out, make plans to stay elsewhere and hope she doesn’t take your bed or rip out the light fixtures in your absence.
While all this unfolds, make sure that your boss and your close friends and your family all know that you’ve got a volatile home situation on your hands, so that if your roomie really wigs — God forbid — they’ll have some warning about what’s going on. But at home, keep your cool. Don’t get sucked into her pathology. Don’t negotiate. You aren’t asking — you’re telling her. I know it’s difficult and scary, but channel the Jedi, tell her what’s what, and walk out.
The minute she’s finally out, change the locks and burn a branch of sage in the apartment to clear her nasty spirit out of the house. Retrieve your stuff. Pick up your dog. Get caller ID and a pepper-spray keychain and start paying better attention to your instincts.
[7/17/01]
Tags: boys (and girls) roommates
