Where is my partner..? She is missing..
"People and their insecurities, man..."
How do you learn to trust after you have been burnt so badly, after everything you've worked for has been lost, after everything you've loved has been taken away? How do you learn to trust that people will look out for what you have, what you love? I'm so gullible, so vulnerable. I would have thought that it was only a good thing to learn not to so fully trust people to look out for my wellbeing. After all, everyone else is looking out for themselves, and is more than willing to use me until there is no more use left for them, and then they are gone and I am alone. I've learnt this again and again:
I learnt while very young that trust was for noone but me. That in the end, I would always be alone. That I could not count on anyone else to be there for me, to look out for me. It was just me, by myself. Everyone else will find something else to be more important in the end, always, and they will abandon you.
But what happens when you can't trust someone enough to not say something, to not need to talk about it, and then they are personally insulted by it - like it was an attack on them, rather than exposing a deep wound in myself? Am I a bad person to be unable to trust someone with my money without talking about it explicitly?
A story of giving and losing
For everything that was ever taken from me by this man, it was actually freely given up by me for him, or to him, of my own free will. I trusted him with them, and with myself.
I started out with nothing but an appartment, an old car, a table, some plastic dishes, a mattress, some cheap computer speakers, a discman to plug them into, and my full time minimum-wage job.
I was mostly happy but I was very alone, and very lonely. I made friends with a guy, Ay. He was 10 years older than me (25 vs 15) but I never noticed. Another friend of mine, Brian, warned me about him once. He told me I would be better to stay away from him. I didn't listen to him, but I will forever wish I had.
Ay and I were together all the time eventually. We were dealing more or less, but without any kind of physical relationship. Sometimes the things he'd say made me wonder if he wanted me to make the first move, or wanted to know if I wanted that, but I never did want it.
Ay took my first appartment from me. He needed a third roommate and talked me into it, without any effort I am sure. I trusted him fully with my wellbeing. I thought he was really looking out for me too. He took my lonely appartment, and gave me a mouse infested warehouse to sleep in instead. I was now a part of his crew. I thought I was happy.
Once we were raided by the police in the middle of the night, they even brought dogs, you could hear them barking outside. We weren't supposed to be living in such a place. Nothing too terrible happened, but they looked at all the hash pipes and whatnot that the third one had, and wandered around through the whole place opening everything.
Of course, the situation was sketchy at best and one day we just had to move. Something happened with the landlord, Abe. We packed up and left in the middle of the night, while telling the landlord nothing was going on. Ay left me stranded with nowhere to live. I had to move back into my parents basement, they were kind enough to not leave me on the street, though they probably wanted to.
My parents helped me get another appartment, which wasn't easy. I had trashed my last one. Actually, they had trashed it, the rest of Ay's crew. There were holes in the walls, appliances in the hallway, and I don't even know. Police came that night too, were going to fine me for noise, looked around at my pitiful empty appartment, looked at me, and let me off. Took the very underage girl in the bathroom to the hospital before she died from alcohol poisoning. I think one of them peed in the cop car window while they were in my appartment. The plan was to get me evicted so that I wouldn't have a lease to worry about. Actually I never was evicted, it was considered abandonment. My parents were left cleaning up and repairing the place so they wouldn't have to pay a lot of money in damages.
My new appartment was not as nice as my first one had been. Ay and I were really close by this time. We chilled constantly. At my place, at his place, we skated together, we worked together, the same shifts and everything, we wrote rhymes together, we watched tv and listened to hiphop together, we played dreamcast together, we dreamt up cool video game ideas together, we read books together, we theorized about the world together. We started doing things in my new appartment that I won't talk about in here, but they were not good. They jeopardized my safety, my freedom, my life. Ay threatened to take all these away from me, he used me so that he was safe while I was in danger. I was lucky so many times over and over, that I was spared. But in the end I was evicted from this appartment, during my last month. The man at the agency office stared me down and asked me tough questions. I stared back and said nothing. I think he pitied me too. Once again he took away my home, and I was left stranded, and back at my parents' doorstep.
And again they helped me get another place of my own. This one was really nice! I miss it. It was big, it was carpetted, it was clean, it was in a nice building, in a nice neighbourhood, perfectly located for me, on the ground floor, with the sun coming in the windows most of the day, with blinds to block it out but to look out through at the world. I distanced myself from Ay a little I guess. We still skated a lot, but someone else came into my life, H, and we started dealing for real.
I landed a better job, doing coding, and worked my way up the pay scale a lil too, so that I was making pretty comfy money for myself. I bought a new car for myself, a totally refurbished Tercel, which I adored. I had thrown out my other car by now, as I had driven it right into the ground. I started saving up money.
And then Ay took away all my money, and took away my home, once again. He had an idea to make money. He needed my investment, and he needed me to be his human shield again - a name where he didn't want to put his own name. I willingly gave it all up. I can't imagine what H was thinking. I gave up my beautiful appartment, for a small room in a dirty, dim, scary (freaky like The Ring) house right around the corner from the worst block in all of Winnipeg (maybe all of Canada..), where there are murders on a very regular basis. The kitchen was always too dirty to use so I had to eat out or get take out constantly. My freedom was again in constant jeopardy. But I thought I was having a good time, and I trusted him with everything.
Eventually, probably with the help of H... I saw that my situation was perilous, and so I decided to get out. I ended up in University, living in a tiny residence room. It was a nice room, I liked it. I had to quit my job to go to school full time, but I kept on doing some small contract work for them. But on my way out of that house, Ay made me a proposal. A loan. I'd get back more than I put in. I didn't hesitate to say yes. I trusted him of course. We'd been through a lot together in the last 4? 5? years. So I lent him every penny that I had, which was a fair sum saved up by now, and I was still paying my share of the rent for his house. He came by every month to give me money for the rent coming out of my account, and promised to have some of my money back for me the next time, and we'd hang out for the evening or whatever. Then came January, winter term. I had to pay my second installment for residence, but Ay didn't have the money yet. I made plans to move into the closet of my friend on the floor. I had nowhere to go. Eventually I went to my father, and worked out a loan from him, for until I could get all my money back plus the interest. And so I was late, but I managed to not be kicked out of my room, and was still able to eat for the rest of the school year. Somewhere in the winter term, my cheques for the rent on that house ran out, and so I was no longer paying anything on it, and so Ay was no longer coming by with money for me either. I never saw him again. By the time I was getting my things together to move to Ottawa at the end of the term, he was not even answering his phone. My money was gone, all of it. He took it all. And so I sold everything, whether I loved it or not, to pay back my father and have money to live from. I put my clothes that I kept and a few small things into boxes, and hopped on a plane here with them. I didn't even need to pay for extra luggage space.
And so, by the time I arrived in Ottawa, I had even less than when I started this whole story. I've managed to take care of myself, and I now have my full-time minimum wage job back. I have a nice appartment, a mattress, a computer, a tv, a vcr, some computer speakers, a guitar, a microwave, a huge student loan. Am I winning? I am just starting university this fall. I don't feel like I am winning.
I felt that I should have asked him to sign some paper saying he was borrowing the money from me all along. But I didn't want to bring it up, to say anything about it. I didn't want to insult him by bringing his trustworthiness into question. Friends don't do that, right? And so I just let it be, I said nothing, and I had nothing to prove a thing.
What little trust I do know again, is thanks to H. I'm sure it hasn't been easy on her... she's really wonderful to me.
Trust is a decision, but distrust is a reflex. Which one wins?
It's hard to trust people with my money again. It's harder to trust people with my wellbeing.
I'm scared.
How do you learn to trust after you have been burnt so badly, after everything you've worked for has been lost, after everything you've loved has been taken away? How do you learn to trust that people will look out for what you have, what you love? I'm so gullible, so vulnerable. I would have thought that it was only a good thing to learn not to so fully trust people to look out for my wellbeing. After all, everyone else is looking out for themselves, and is more than willing to use me until there is no more use left for them, and then they are gone and I am alone. I've learnt this again and again:
I learnt while very young that trust was for noone but me. That in the end, I would always be alone. That I could not count on anyone else to be there for me, to look out for me. It was just me, by myself. Everyone else will find something else to be more important in the end, always, and they will abandon you.
But what happens when you can't trust someone enough to not say something, to not need to talk about it, and then they are personally insulted by it - like it was an attack on them, rather than exposing a deep wound in myself? Am I a bad person to be unable to trust someone with my money without talking about it explicitly?
A story of giving and losing
For everything that was ever taken from me by this man, it was actually freely given up by me for him, or to him, of my own free will. I trusted him with them, and with myself.
I started out with nothing but an appartment, an old car, a table, some plastic dishes, a mattress, some cheap computer speakers, a discman to plug them into, and my full time minimum-wage job.
I was mostly happy but I was very alone, and very lonely. I made friends with a guy, Ay. He was 10 years older than me (25 vs 15) but I never noticed. Another friend of mine, Brian, warned me about him once. He told me I would be better to stay away from him. I didn't listen to him, but I will forever wish I had.
Ay and I were together all the time eventually. We were dealing more or less, but without any kind of physical relationship. Sometimes the things he'd say made me wonder if he wanted me to make the first move, or wanted to know if I wanted that, but I never did want it.
Ay took my first appartment from me. He needed a third roommate and talked me into it, without any effort I am sure. I trusted him fully with my wellbeing. I thought he was really looking out for me too. He took my lonely appartment, and gave me a mouse infested warehouse to sleep in instead. I was now a part of his crew. I thought I was happy.
Once we were raided by the police in the middle of the night, they even brought dogs, you could hear them barking outside. We weren't supposed to be living in such a place. Nothing too terrible happened, but they looked at all the hash pipes and whatnot that the third one had, and wandered around through the whole place opening everything.
Of course, the situation was sketchy at best and one day we just had to move. Something happened with the landlord, Abe. We packed up and left in the middle of the night, while telling the landlord nothing was going on. Ay left me stranded with nowhere to live. I had to move back into my parents basement, they were kind enough to not leave me on the street, though they probably wanted to.
My parents helped me get another appartment, which wasn't easy. I had trashed my last one. Actually, they had trashed it, the rest of Ay's crew. There were holes in the walls, appliances in the hallway, and I don't even know. Police came that night too, were going to fine me for noise, looked around at my pitiful empty appartment, looked at me, and let me off. Took the very underage girl in the bathroom to the hospital before she died from alcohol poisoning. I think one of them peed in the cop car window while they were in my appartment. The plan was to get me evicted so that I wouldn't have a lease to worry about. Actually I never was evicted, it was considered abandonment. My parents were left cleaning up and repairing the place so they wouldn't have to pay a lot of money in damages.
My new appartment was not as nice as my first one had been. Ay and I were really close by this time. We chilled constantly. At my place, at his place, we skated together, we worked together, the same shifts and everything, we wrote rhymes together, we watched tv and listened to hiphop together, we played dreamcast together, we dreamt up cool video game ideas together, we read books together, we theorized about the world together. We started doing things in my new appartment that I won't talk about in here, but they were not good. They jeopardized my safety, my freedom, my life. Ay threatened to take all these away from me, he used me so that he was safe while I was in danger. I was lucky so many times over and over, that I was spared. But in the end I was evicted from this appartment, during my last month. The man at the agency office stared me down and asked me tough questions. I stared back and said nothing. I think he pitied me too. Once again he took away my home, and I was left stranded, and back at my parents' doorstep.
And again they helped me get another place of my own. This one was really nice! I miss it. It was big, it was carpetted, it was clean, it was in a nice building, in a nice neighbourhood, perfectly located for me, on the ground floor, with the sun coming in the windows most of the day, with blinds to block it out but to look out through at the world. I distanced myself from Ay a little I guess. We still skated a lot, but someone else came into my life, H, and we started dealing for real.
I landed a better job, doing coding, and worked my way up the pay scale a lil too, so that I was making pretty comfy money for myself. I bought a new car for myself, a totally refurbished Tercel, which I adored. I had thrown out my other car by now, as I had driven it right into the ground. I started saving up money.
And then Ay took away all my money, and took away my home, once again. He had an idea to make money. He needed my investment, and he needed me to be his human shield again - a name where he didn't want to put his own name. I willingly gave it all up. I can't imagine what H was thinking. I gave up my beautiful appartment, for a small room in a dirty, dim, scary (freaky like The Ring) house right around the corner from the worst block in all of Winnipeg (maybe all of Canada..), where there are murders on a very regular basis. The kitchen was always too dirty to use so I had to eat out or get take out constantly. My freedom was again in constant jeopardy. But I thought I was having a good time, and I trusted him with everything.
Eventually, probably with the help of H... I saw that my situation was perilous, and so I decided to get out. I ended up in University, living in a tiny residence room. It was a nice room, I liked it. I had to quit my job to go to school full time, but I kept on doing some small contract work for them. But on my way out of that house, Ay made me a proposal. A loan. I'd get back more than I put in. I didn't hesitate to say yes. I trusted him of course. We'd been through a lot together in the last 4? 5? years. So I lent him every penny that I had, which was a fair sum saved up by now, and I was still paying my share of the rent for his house. He came by every month to give me money for the rent coming out of my account, and promised to have some of my money back for me the next time, and we'd hang out for the evening or whatever. Then came January, winter term. I had to pay my second installment for residence, but Ay didn't have the money yet. I made plans to move into the closet of my friend on the floor. I had nowhere to go. Eventually I went to my father, and worked out a loan from him, for until I could get all my money back plus the interest. And so I was late, but I managed to not be kicked out of my room, and was still able to eat for the rest of the school year. Somewhere in the winter term, my cheques for the rent on that house ran out, and so I was no longer paying anything on it, and so Ay was no longer coming by with money for me either. I never saw him again. By the time I was getting my things together to move to Ottawa at the end of the term, he was not even answering his phone. My money was gone, all of it. He took it all. And so I sold everything, whether I loved it or not, to pay back my father and have money to live from. I put my clothes that I kept and a few small things into boxes, and hopped on a plane here with them. I didn't even need to pay for extra luggage space.
And so, by the time I arrived in Ottawa, I had even less than when I started this whole story. I've managed to take care of myself, and I now have my full-time minimum wage job back. I have a nice appartment, a mattress, a computer, a tv, a vcr, some computer speakers, a guitar, a microwave, a huge student loan. Am I winning? I am just starting university this fall. I don't feel like I am winning.
I felt that I should have asked him to sign some paper saying he was borrowing the money from me all along. But I didn't want to bring it up, to say anything about it. I didn't want to insult him by bringing his trustworthiness into question. Friends don't do that, right? And so I just let it be, I said nothing, and I had nothing to prove a thing.
What little trust I do know again, is thanks to H. I'm sure it hasn't been easy on her... she's really wonderful to me.
Trust is a decision, but distrust is a reflex. Which one wins?
It's hard to trust people with my money again. It's harder to trust people with my wellbeing.
I'm scared.