Letter to Crusifer

Thursday, January, 1st 2008 at 1:40am

Last night I said some things along the lines of “if we were not together” to My Boyfriend. I said I’d be done with men. I said I’d want to give Ayian a call (even though I don’t have her number.) I said I would want to leave Buffalo for a while; go on a trip that involved mooching off of someone else. However, it was ill-worded, ill-conceived and delivered in such a way that My Boyfriend took it all wrong in ways I couldn’t have predicted.
I made him feel like he’s wasting his efforts. I also made him feel like I’m using him. I also made him feel like he was responsible for making me hate men. All in one blow. He crushed my argument instantly, and made me feel like shit. I apologized less than five minutes from the time I uttered the words. I told him he was right to be angry with me. But that wasn’t enough. To my complete ire he was still mad this morning.
I tried to get him to touch me, to talk to me... He pushed me away, and I kept coming back. I felt so desperate. I hate mornings. I wake up feeling so clingy. I need to establish some link of love before I can set out in my day. If I don’t, the whole day feels miserable nine out of ten times. I seem incapable of raising my own spirits when I wake up.
We worked things out over the phone... But I started the day feeling down; and now I’m ending the day feeling down. I think I’m going to watch TV like a sheep, and then try to sleep. Sometimes I just hate living. I’m either lonely or I’m stressed out by whoever is around me.


























Thursday, January, 1st 2008 at 8:31pm
Corvier,
This is not a break-up letter; it’s a make-up letter and I’ll be very upset if you don’t read it.
Life is meaningless bull shit, isn’t it? At least, that’s how I feel about it right now. While you set off to your “good friend’s” house, I sit here crying; wishing you weren’t leaving.
Sometimes I think we’re the same person, but right now I couldn’t feel more different. I don’t know what it’s like to have good friends. I have no where I could just up and go to. Not a single place. That’s where the difference lies.
You have your work, your mom’s, Frankie’s place, El’s place, Dana’s place and probably at least three other places you could just go to if you needed to – even Frank’s I bet, am I right? I have no where. This room is my only place. This has always been my only place, and it is personal to me.
I spend countless hours alone up here; writing, cleaning, drawing, reading, scanning art, printing... We have sex up here, we sleep here, we talk here. This is essentially my universe. I have no where else to run to, and perhaps that’s why it’s personal to me.
One of the things I hated most about My Crazy “Ninja” Ex is how he’s just bring people up into our room. I felt like I had no place in the world that was mine. I had no place to run to when he would put on the TV for hours and hours. I had no choice but to watch it with him. I had no friend’s house to run to; nothing. And because I had such a low opinion of myself, I believed that was the best I could do. I believed that having no place of my own was okay because I thought that was the price for being me or something.
It’s not okay. I understand how you feel because I feel the same way; just in a different light. I think that’s the case anyway. You’re pissed off at me because you feel like you should be able to bring your friends into your private area if you want to. I’m pissed off because I feel like I should be able to say I don’t want to hear or see things in my personal area if I don’t want to. This is my sanctuary; and that’s how I feel about it. You can go play beats at Frankie’s; but I can’t go anywhere and do anything.
I guess that’s why we do need separate areas to run to. I never realized before how big the gap in our understanding on this My Bestfriender... I feel hopeless. I hate not being on the same page with you.
Crying like this makes me feel stupid too. I’ve told myself so many times I’m just not going to cry over you, or over men, or over anything... Yet it’s almost as pointless not to cry as it is to cry. I mean; if you’re too upset to do anything anyway, might as well cry your ass off and get it over with, right? This is so aside from the point...
Of course, I’m not sure I had a point other than putting words on the monitor. I’m not sure I could lose myself in a video game right now even if I had one I was into playing... You say I need to grow up; and yet you’re the one running away to a friend’s house to play a game where you shoot other people. And I’m the hypocrite... I don’t want to attack you with my words though. I don’t want to fight with you at all. I wouldn’t have argued if it had been a point of lesser importance to me...
This is a ten on a scale of one to ten on importance to me. And it’s also a ten when it comes to how you respond when I tell you how I feel about something. (Agreed, how you feel counts too; that’s aside from the point at the moment.)
Now that I’ve told you how upset I am and how important this is to me, and now, hopefully you’ve cooled off – so perhaps you’ll listen.


The first issue: It makes me feel invaded when people I don’t know are in my room.
My second issue: It hurts me when you tell me how I feel is retarded.
The third issue: I don’t like being told what my point is; especially when I’m telling you you’re wrong. You’re essentially telling me I’m lying.
You’re right, it’s a double-standard. I admit it. I just never thought you had the issue. And you obviously don’t since you’re telling me that caring about people “seeing my stuff” is immature. It’s just like you don’t care if I play music or not, whereas I care a lot. I don’t like you having people I don’t know in my room. That is the fact of the My Bestfriender. That doesn’t mean I think that you shouldn’t be able to have friends over. That doesn’t mean that I don’t trust your judgement. That doesn’t mean that I believe everyone is a thief. All it means, is that I’m uncomfortable with it; and therefor we need to find a resolution. (Or just break-up over it – which is what you said you’d do... You didn’t mean that, right?)
Fear of thieves, and people seeing my stuff are parts of the issue, but neither one is the biggest issue. Fear of stealing is like, 7%. People seeing my stuff is like 13%. I just find the rest of it so much harder to explain. It’s easier to explain the short and simple stuff.
The fact that I have no where else to go is 70% of it I guess. We never got to that point because I was getting too frustrated to think clearly. My issue changed from the original point when you started calling me retarded. I started to get upset about you telling me you didn’t care how I felt instead of being upset about our original debate.
You can go to your friend’s house. That’s a possibility. They live nearby, you’re welcome there, and they like having you over. I have no such option. I don’t even have an option close to that. You complain that you’d have to move your laptop and speakers downstairs in order to “bump beats” but think about it – I’d have to move my laptop and all other related belongings downstairs if you were to bump beats upstairs. That goes both ways. Either way, I’m going to be upset because I can still hear it, so I’d actually have to leave the whole house – and guess what, I have no where to go outside of the house! So that means if you bring people over to tattoo them, you’re going to take a lot of time, and you’re going to want to play music, and you and them are going to be talking, and if I don’t want to be there, I’m trapped. I’d have to listen to it. I wouldn’t have another option in nine out of ten cases. That makes me feel like my privacy is being invaded. Does that make sense to you?
This does not negate my point of it being “personal,” but I hadn’t really realized what I meant by that until now. Sometimes (as I’m sure you’re aware) when you’re upset, you say what you feel without thinking about what you feel means. And then, because you’re explanation is sketchy and doesn’t get to the heart of the point, you get walked all over. I’m sure you’ve experienced this since a number of times you’ve said “if I could twist words like you do then I’m sure I’d have the upper-hand” or things along those lines.
I didn’t actually realize my main issue with having “random people” in the room until you left to go to Frankie’s house – and here I am, sitting here on the bed crying. I thought to myself “this is bullshit! What am I going to do with myself now?” And after five to ten minutes of wallowing in my misery I decided to see what My Bestfriend was up to. No answer. I called My Cool Girlbuddy. No answer. I can’t just show up. I don’t even know where either of them live. I don’t know anyone, and I don’t have anywhere to go. I started to think about that and dwell on that, and then it hit me; my room is so personal to me because it’s everything to me. It’s everywhere to me.
Even My Bestfriend has said that I “put too much emphasis on physical possessions” and having space and my personal room and so forth. I told him it was because I put so much work into my room; but now I see the real reason isn’t that at all. (Of course that’s still a small part of it. Perhaps the remaining 10% even.) My Bestfriend has college, and friend’s houses and the carp shop – he’s never at home. He enjoys himself by talking to people and going places. Of course he doesn’t see the value of having his own room – he’d rather go to a park to be alone.

Well, for me, this is where I do everything. I eat, shit, sleep, fuck, read, draw, write, think, dance, exercise, watch TV, paint, color, print, scan, clean, organize, get inspired, be depressed, cry, dream, hope, hide, answer the phone, make calls from, wash my face, wash my hands, brush my hair and do absolutely everything in this room. It’s not as personal to you because you spend forty-four to sixty hours a week working, six to twelve hours in transportation, two to fifteen hours at friends houses, and one to three hours in the downstairs bathroom in a week (53 to 90 hours out of 112 waking hours in a week).
Whereas I leave this room for four to fifteen hours to help my mom out downstairs, to go grocery shopping for one to four hours, to do laundry and to bath and to cook for five to ten hours, and to pick you up for one to three hours a week (11 to 32 hours out of 112 waking hours in a week.) And beyond that, over half of that is still within the house. And on top of that, this is the same house I’ve spent my entire life in. This isn’t just letting them into my bed room; it’s like letting them into my life. In fact, it is letting them into my life because I don’t have a choice but to be there. I can’t just sit at my laptop and blare my headphones a regular basis; that might be a compromise but it’s not a solution – it’s turning a big problem into two medium problems; not getting rid of the problem.
And again, why did I let My Bestfriend in then? Let’s think about that. You’re right, that was hypocritical of me; and while excuses don’t “excuse” me for being a hypocrite, they do explain a lot. Just like, why you drink doesn’t excuse you drinking; but I’d still like to know. And besides, to solve any problem, you do have to know the cause.
Reason number one: there was no where else to go and I wanted to continue to talk and hang out. Reason number two: I felt like from what I knew about him thus far that I wanted to continue to have him in my life, therefor I didn’t feel like it was an invasion. Number three: I didn’t care at the time what you might think because I was so pissed at you for running off without telling me and ignoring my calls. Number four: It was too hot outside to be thinking about much of anything clearly. Number five: You’ve never expressed an issue with me bringing people in our room. (Except of course Jay; and by the way, I’ve never brought him into the house since that party.)
Besides all of that, this is something that has been developing over time. Just like I didn’t eat an organic diet when I was ten, neither did I discriminate over who came into my room back then. Having those house parties made me realize a number of things: getting drunk sucks, having a bunch of losers in your house sucks, drugs suck, the people I know suck, cleaning up after drunk people sucks, and having people in your room in general just sucks. Perhaps it would be easier for you to understand if that part of my life was past before I met you. It’s only in the last year and a half that I’ve felt so strongly about not having people in my bedroom. Yes, it’s our bedroom, but now we have a game-room. It’s neutral; and besides that, I can be upstairs alone while you have people with you down there, and in addition, it’s better than you being outside because I can come see you and you can come see me. I don’t see why that should be a big problem in the future.
Just by the by, when Will came over, he never came upstairs. We stayed in the game room. When My Cool Girlbuddy, My Bestfriend and Vanessa came over three weeks ago or so, we stayed in the game room. When My Bestfriend came over two weeks ago, we stayed in the game room. I’m not just making this shit up to be difficult, I’m telling you this because this is extremely important to me.
This is a slightly more stupid argument than our usual in my opinion. It’s obviously important to both of us, and that fact alone should be enough for us both to realize that “proving the other person wrong” is not only impossible, but insulting. And I don’t believe you’re wrong. You need a place where you can have friends over that you feel like is a good place to have friends. I forget that it’s so important. I think you forget how hard it is for me to believe and understand that it’s important to be able to have your friends over. It, of course, doesn’t help that I don’t exactly approve of your friends, but that is completely aside from the point(s). It’s hard for me to understand sometimes because for me you are my “mans” and you are the only person I feel strongly about being able to see in my personal space.
Okay, so back to the issues as hand. Firstly, I’m not going to accept having people in our bedroom, and you’re not going to accept not having a place for your friends and you to hang out. In conclusion to that, you need a place that it’s okay for you to have your friends. There are number of possible arrangements.

My recommended solution: The first possible arrangement, (and the most logical in my opinion) is that you have a desk in the game room (probably located where Mary’s desk is still located at the moment) and your speakers would be there along with your computer stuff so that setting your laptop there is easy as pie. The room won’t be your space, but the desk would be, and that would be better than what we have now. (This doesn’t negate the fact that I’d like to build an office in the back of the attic, but I always thought of that as being a personal retreat, not a bring-all-your-friends party-room. It’s not really practical for that purpose since it’s directly above my parent’s bedroom and requires going through our bedroom to get there.)
The second option is a bit more complicated, but still possible. We could move our bedroom. The big question there is “where to?”
Bad idea #1: We could put it where the couch was and curtain off the area with the TV as a very small but functional My Boyfriend-and-friends zone. The only problem with that is that it doesn’t solve the sound issue.
Bad idea #2: We could (in theory) move our bedroom to where I planned the office to be... Which is a lot of work and couldn’t be done in any short period of time, but could be a long-term goal. However, I don’t want ghouls painted above my bed; I have enough nightmares as is.
Bad idea #3: We could (in theory) move our bedroom into my old bedroom, but I think that’s a terrible idea because it’s directly connected to my parents bedroom giving us no sound privacy what-so-ever. In fact, that’s not even possible because my dad has his TV running all the time and that would prevent us (or at least me) from sleeping.
So scratch those three last ideas...
Another possible solution: We could move our bedroom to that small mid-section between the “office” and our “bedroom.” That would also be a lot of work, but it’s possible. If a door was built between the mid-section and our current living area, and another door between the mid-section and the office, it might be practical to have a “friends-area” out here and still be possible for me to go hide out in the office. This solution however would still be long-term and not easily created within a month or two.
In fact, (now that I’ve thought it through) I think these are the only two real practical options: We could move our bedroom into the mid-section, or we could put a My Boyfriend-area in the game room. If neither of these agree with you then I don’t see anything that can be done about it. You certainly can’t bump beats and smoke blunts in the living room. My mother would probably have to be hospitalized and my dad would probably have your balls for dinner on principle alone. (If that didn’t make you laugh then I’ll go catch a flying pig!)
In the case of the two other issues: If you believe I don’t know what I’m talking about then you need to find a way of saying it that doesn’t imply I’m lying. It’s really hard to contain my emotions when I feel like I’m being accused of lying. Also, if you think my feelings are retarded, then by all means don’t say so. I find that having my feelings deemed retarded is not only offensive, but hurtful, not to mention not at all helpful. And you know damn-well if I called your feelings retarded that you’d be just as angry or upset.
We need to be able to debate like adults and not like three-year-olds. Name-calling, cursing, storming-out, crying, screaming, raising our voices, bringing other people into the situation and dismissing the other person’s point are all unhelpful and in-fact; damaging. This sort of thing damages our relationship. Kisses and time-spent together and effort and conversation are all investments; whereas this is taking a metal-bat to our love-bank. If we could have calmly resolved this instead, it would have been another investment instead of a blow. Don’t you agree?




Arguments happen because people disagree. Obviously, if you disagree then you believe that you are right and (of course) the other person is wrong. Unfortunately it’s much more complicated than that when it comes to the actual truth of the My Bestfriender. However, if you’re upset and I’m upset than the argument is no longer about the truth; it’s about proving that you’re right so that the other person will shut up and make you stop feeling like shit. (In a nutshell, I’m sure I could word that a bunch of different ways to make slightly different impacts, but you get the point I’m making here; if we’re both upset than the truth is no longer relevant to either of us.)
Because we love each other it’s that much easier to become upset. We’re appalled the other person could say something so hurtful! Am I right? When I say something “retarded” it hurts so much more because I’m supposed to be the bright and wonderful perfect girl you want to marry, right? But, because we love each other, it’s that much more important that we don’t lose our cool. And frankly babe, it’s really hard for me too. My throat gets all choked up, and I feel like I’m trapped and there is nothing to do but scream at you that you’re wrong and heartless. But that’s not the answer, and we both know it.
In my opinion; in order to not make each other lose our tempers we need to do two things;
– Firstly, not say anything we know is going to piss the other person off, and in addition to not saying that would piss us off it was said to us.
– Secondly, to try our hardest to see the other person’s point and respond calmly and as reasonably as possible to what is being said.
Also, it would help if you said things like “Are you upset because it’s personal or because you think people are going to steal from you?” Instead of saying that you believe that I’m lying about what I’m saying.

...So I just got off the phone with you. It’s ten o’clock now. I feel a lot better now I’ve spoke with you. Warmer, actually. In fact, I almost feel like I can do something other than write this letter now. It’s like being upset about you puts me under this spell where I can hardly do anything at all. I guess that’s why they say “love hurts” huh?
While removing yourself from the situation to cool off is better than continuing to get more angry, we can’t do this every time we disagree. I am a woman, and I am going to seem like a mom a lot of the time. These should (in my opinion) both be good things. As a woman, I can offer a different perspective and a number of services. As a “motherly figure” I can offer my concern and my love and my rules for keeping our relationship and our lives as safe and as fulfilling as possible.

Love,
Atara