My apologies

It all started innocently enough a month ago.  Seeking some joy in having all my time to myself I logged onto my facebook account after jotting down the details of my temp assignment.  Rarely checking the thing, I noticed that I had a friend request.

From my ex.

I’m never too sure what qualifies as an ex since I’ve never been in an official relationship, but it’s safe to say that connection with this person started as an epistolary flirtation about our love of food.  I had hoped that our connection would be long lasting, but alas it was not.  Last Christmas I had bought him a gift certificate for a maasage when he surprised me with even bigger news– he was breaking up with me.  His email announcing his desire to not see me anymore was philosophical, poetic almost.  He didn’t want to be in a relationship and he sensed that I wanted that.

So with all of our history online and offline, of course I couldn’t accept his friend request.  It’s been almost a year since he obliterated all contact we had– and I didn’t want to see his icon on my page.  So I asked him, why are you sending me this.  And then he wrote back:  I was wrong to push you out of my life, and I am sorry.

That apology felt really good.  I felt vindicated, excited in a way.  This was him telling me that what transpired between us wasn’t my fault, because, he’s finally said he was sorry.  All that goodness stayed for about ten minutes, and then it just hurt like hell.  Why was he contacting me?  I had gone to great lengths to get over what happened, and then my experience with him washing over me.  The evasiness, the unreturned phone calls, the fact that he was never available, or honest in regards to how he felt about me.  But it’s been almost a year and I’m trying to move on emotionally from it and I’ve went through a lot since then and I was happy acting like he didn’t exist and staying out of his world and respecting his need for space but now all of sudden he’s sorry. It felt like that.

Apologies are difficult, impossible almost.  Humans like hearing they’re right, which ultimately means no one likes being told they’re wrong.  I know I don’t.  And apologies have this heavy emotional level to them because it’s when people have to engage in being wrong, as opposed to when things are right and free and fun.  I know I hate apologizing.  Partially because I had to do it all the time with my mom.  (“Sorry for waking you up.”  “I’m sorry I embarrassed you  in the video store.”  “I’m sorry for jumping into your lap.  I was just excited because I hadn’t seen you all” I had to say to her when I was seven).  She’s never apologized for anything she’s done to me, because she sees herself as a human who makes mistakes, and if you love someone, you shouldn’t ask for that.  You should just know that person has needs and you should let their transgression go.

That of course is the against the nature of apologizing.  When it comes to saying you’re sorry, and you geniunely mean it, the hard work goes on the other person because they have to decide if they want to accept your apology.  Apologizing can sometimes be a band-aid approach, but saying you were wrong cuts into a deep wound, and implies you may want to heal that wound.  We continued to converse, and he confessed that he knew I loved him, but he just saw me as a friend all along, and when he saw how crazy I was about him he took advantage of that.  His response hurt because it caused me to relive all of that which, I am going to assume was way worse for me than it was for him.  I’m still assessing whether it would be worth it to have him back in my life.

This isn’t my first experience with exes who return.  Three months after we agreed to stop speaking (or he hung up on me) my first love sent me an email saying he missed me.  That sent me into an emotional tailspin and three hours, two bottles of wine, a Keisha Cole album and a box of Kleenex later, I had the strength to not respond.  Even though he was saying what I wanted to hear, I knew deep down it was because he no longer had me as an emotional anchor. 

The other tricky part is that he’s not only asking me to forgive him (which I do) he’s asking to be friends.  He thinks that we could get together and make dinner or split a bottle of wine!  This is also hard because I’ve worked a lot to no longer care about him, but he’s asking me to care.  I’ve also had friends who were exes, or exes who were friends.  I’m not sure which came first.  She was girl a hooked up with several times only for her to say she couldn’t fall in love with me, because I seemed too much like a goody two shoes, but she wanted to be my friend.  The problem is that all of issues we had when we were hooking up resurfaced in the friendship with a vengance.  She wouldn’t return my phone calls for weeks but show up at my door in the middle of the night.  She’d complain about the people she was sleeping with and of course this info is a little unwanted because we used to sleep together, and she’d say that if she could get her senses straight she could fall for someone like me because I was loyal, loving, caring, honest (but kinda boring).  Whenever I’d call her out about not being a good friend to me with her evasiness and selfish behavior she’d just throw it in my face that I knew she was like that all along, why was I was tripping?  It took me too long to figure out that being her friend was emotionally preventing me from moving on to a better suited romantic relationship, and when I finally got the courage to cut it off, I felt terrible.  She did email me once after that, but I haven’t heard from her again.  I’m better able to put that experience behind me since we’re no longer in contact and I can move on with my life.  When we were trying to be friends I felt profoundly disempowered by her behavior, and this nagging suspicion started to take over me (because she said I’m settled and women like more excitement, I may never find anyone who likes me) which may have sabatoged my emotional progress.

All these fears I bring to the table when my second love contacted me. Would we really be able to be friends?  Better yet, would I want to cook for him again?  I mean, I do have a wonderful butternut squash soup he’d greatly appreciate, but I don’t want to make anything for him.   I’m not even sure if I want him to touch me again.  It’s nauseating knowing that someone you loved so much didn’t care about you.  I’ve relayed this situation to my friends, one of his casual friends, my therapist, even my mom, and there’s been a concencus.  I really don’t have to be his friend if I don’t want to after what happened between us, but I need to get used to fact that he exists, because we live in the same city, occupy the same spaces and even share mutual friends.  If I were to re-enter his life it would have to gradual, and he’d need to seriously work on building trust. 

But do I really want to see him with his new girlfriend?  No, no I do not.  I don’t think I’m emotionally prepared for that.  And no matter how rational I can get (I should be over it, there are other fish in the sea etc.) my mind is saying I should spend that energy finding someone real to love, and my heart is just saying although I appreciate his apology because it’s helped me work through some trust issues, I am not ready to let him back into my life yet.  He’s asking for forgiveness; in turn I’m asking for his patience.  If he wants to be my friend as much as he says he does, he’ll grant me that.  More importantly, he’ll understand.

Can’t decide

It’s been too long since I posted something on here.  Although intentional, I’m sorry.  These past few months have been rough to say the least, and I figured the last thing you wanted to hear was me endlessly whining.  So why not listen to me after the fact?

My past few months have been occupied by one thing:  A job.  August 22 marked the one year anniversary of being with Americorps for two years, and VISTA and Experience Corps for one.  Since I had my second boss I was more or less ready to leave.  We weren’t a good fit, and I found it impossible to get along with him, much less do the things he asked me to which weren’t in my job description.  My personality differences were a major source of tension although he did ask me to stay on for a few extra weeks.  I couldn’t figure out why; our personality differences were a major source of tension in the job, so there was no point in me staying.  But of course I’d want to consider staying!  He’s so extroverted, proud, obnoxious, selfish and arrogant.  At my last team meeting when it was my time to give a proper goodbye speech to our volunteers, he turned it over and made it all about him.  I took the job to feel a sense of importance to make up for the lack of funds, but there’s no reason to continue being there and feel crumby all while I’m scrounging up change from underneath my desk to get a top ramen for dinner.  And since I had already completed a term of Americorps, I couldn’t stay with them any longer.  I had to go and get a real job.

I don’t think I need to explain what’s it like with this economy so I’ll just say this: Craigslist and recruiters are extremely deceptive.  At first I thought they really wanted to find me a job, but no.  They want to build up their database so they can keep their job.  This misunderstanding resulted in a lot of wasted BART fares.  And there is the whole problem that I don’t have much experience.  Most employers want someone with 3-5 years experience. They want someone with a career. No one cared about that lame piece of paper called my degree, which I loathed and lamented since the loan people are constantly calling me asking for their 40,000 back.  I despaired in a lot of ways — through eating, through sleeping, through complaining about how utterly useless this degree was and how unemployable I am.  If I had known that employers place a higher value on experience than education then I wouldn’t skipped school and just went straight into my profession (PR or marketing).

I still cherish those days of unemployment.  When I wasn’t having anxiety attacks over how I’m going to pay my rent, which ultimately turned into more abstract questions such as what am I doing with my life, or what do I want to do with my life, I got back into running, and writing, and visiting friends and reading (I highly recommend Miranda July’s “No one belongs here more than you).  I had a lot of free time, but no money to do anything cool.  So it was still a bummer.  During this time I also talked to my mom the most.  I think I called her more in those six weeks than I have in the last year.  She begged me to come home.  SHe could find me a job at the place she works and the salary would be decent and I could get my finances back together, but then do what?  I didn’t want to live with her because I feared I’d be sucked back into her drama, and I’d have to give up my independence, but most of all I didn’t want to be reminded of how much I’ve failed.  I wanted to do something great with Americorps.  I wanted to help people, but I’m not sure if I did.  I want to get a job, but any job will do at this time, anything.  I want to…what do I want?

This alternate scenario has played out in my head hundreds of thousands of time.  Maybe I want to do Americorps again.  Besides, the VISTA leader for my project had completed her second year of Americorps doing VISTA.  I asked her what it was like when she completed her first year at the reunion party.

“What did you do in between your break?”

She stuffed her mouth with cheese and crackers.  “I couldn’t find another job, so I was like homeless for three months and racked up ten thousand dollars in credit card debt that I haven’t managed to pay off.”

Okay, not for me.  Or maybe I could go back home.  I did miss San Diego, my mom and my little brother.  I missed being close to people who have known me for so long and I don’t have to freak out about them up and running away.  I’d have a job lined up, and maybe I could save enough money to get a car.  But the consistency and comfort of living at home would cause me to regress in the progress of my independence.  Besides, I’d probably get so comfortable I wouldn’t leave and I’d still be there for two years, three years…five, ten years.  And I don’t think there’s anything out there for me.

Or maybe I could get a job with the federal government.  Since I success fully completed VISTA, I have non competitive eligibility for any federal government job that I’m qualified for.  But getting hired with the feds takes about six months, and the only job I find appealing is one that’ll probably take forever to get.  Plus, I need to get my driver’s liscence and once again, I’m not sure if I want to settle in for the long hall.

Or maybe I could be a student. My friend Ronald was appalled when I told him that all I wanted was a simple admin job.  “Girl, you need to go back to school.  Get your masters, PhD, whatever until the economy turns around.  This is no safe time to look for a job.”  That’s what he’s doing.  But he hates grad school, hates Berkeley and just wants to leave.  Although I miss the connection with students, the ability to have an intelligent conversation about character development or metaphysics, I don’t miss workshops, homework, or being consumed studying something for yet, another piece of paper I paid too much for.

Or maybe I could be like Patrick and go teach English.  That’s another one on the five year plan.  I could rock the samba in Brazil or the Flamenco in Spain; I could down shots of Vodka in Russia or sip wine in Italy; I could make new friends and conjugate verbs and make love  to the world!  Except that I’d have to get my TSOL certificate, which costs money.  I don’t know where I’d go (my heart says Italy, Croatia or Brazil but my mind says Japan would be a smarter choice), and I had the same attitude with moving to the Bay Area and look where that got me.  I’m really not trying to move around constantly.  I’d like to find a way to stick with something and make it my home, and I promised myself I’d give this another year.  If not, then I’ll definitely consider teaching abroad while I am still young and have few demands.  This might be the wrong time.

Fortunately there is good in ending this Americorps experience.  When I was at the reunion party and met the incoming class I felt a bit jealous.  They are all young, single and just moved here; before the evening was over they traded business cards and took down phone numbers, and arranged for a time when they could go to the Food stamp offices together.  I wished had been a part of that group.  But I also know they don’t know what the year will have in store.  I’d hope not, but they might be as disaffected as I am about the whole experience.  But at least now I feel a surge of creative energy and I have the time to work on my writing.  And I could work a few odd jobs.

I’m still not sure what I want do.  Do I want to travel?  Becoming a professional?  Become a professional student?  I want to be something permanent.  I want to love the life I lead – right now I just feel like I’m in a transitional state.  I’d like to get out of it.  Fortunately the powers that be did find me a job.  Thanks for Craigslist, of all places, I found an accounting job at a hardware store.  And in some ways it is what I want.  I don’t want to be a full time hero. I don’t want to safe the world when my world is so unorganized right now.  I audit reports and file invoices. I submit documents and passed off mail.  I get the boss coffee.  I am fine with some mind numbing work after spending two years working, improving the world.  I had some great times, but it’s time to move on.

My mind still wrestles with staying here.  The job is low demand.  I get to blog, and listen to Pandora radio stations while I work.  I’m off in a corner office, and don’t have to interact with anyone.  I get to wear sweats to work.  No one bothers me.  The pay leaves a little to be desired but in this economy I’m lucky to even have found a job.  It’s a nice change from what I’ve had before.