well....
last week went well-ish. i think i mentioned the "too tired to move" thing. i did my third training shift at bottom line on friday, behind the bar, and i felt much much better. eddie (the head bartender) was pretty impressed with my speed and general bartender-y-ness. which made me feel good. i am still glad he was there, because i certainly don't have the total hang of it.
after work i discovered 1: hsbc is pretty much useless. what bank closes at FOUR THIRTY on a friday? what the hell is that hsbc? and 2: i can walk to the tpr office from my bar. score! i walked up to the office to fix some paysheet mistakes, realized i'd forgotten to include my essay grading times, and had a talk with rachel about my marketing event on monday (the boss is going to be there, and she wanted to be sure i had it down).
afterwards i went back to schmitty's to drop some stuff off before shopping, and send out some emails. he and i agreed we'd spend the evening bar-hopping with his buddies, which made me happy because i feel like i haven't seen him in ages. i've been working 10-11pm pretty much all week, and the days that i do get home early (like thursday) he stays out with his friends (he actually didn't come home, but told me he wouldn't be, which is always a test of my ability to have faith in him). so i was looking forward to having some good times with my boy on friday.
then, in the shower he tells me he's going to be playing host, which is his way of telling me he is going to actively pay more attention to every other person in the bar than me. strangers. bartenders. any random person who walks by. they'll all get more attention than me. if I was a stranger, i'd get more attention.
i say "ok. i'll see if jeffy still wants to go, so i'll have at least one person talking to me" and he goes, "ok".
right after that he tells me he wants to take me out on a date, and when do i have time. i say "tomorrow (saturday)" and he says "oh, no. that won't work. any other day?" and i tell him how i have that job thing 12 hours a day, and how i've got friends in town this coming weekend, and honestly if he wants my free time, that's a good day for it. so he decides it will happen later.
i can't remember the last time we went on a date. there's always someone else there. actually, that's not true. the last date we went on i took him on in the caymans. the one before that? i don't know.
and this is the 3rd time he's said "i want to take you on a date" but then Something comes up that prevents it from happening. lots of words, little action.
and, like, 4 minutes after that he tells me he wants to cave on saturday probably. which is his way of saying i'm in his space too much and he wants me to leave. which, ok, i get. except the reason he wasn't taking me on the date is because he would be caving. and also, the previous weekend he'd been gone for 4 days skiing with friends and not even giving me a phone call. then i was gone till 11pm tuesday and wednesday, and he didn't come home thursday, so i'm not entirely sure how little of me he needs before it's not too much.
and that little emotional rollercoaster of "i'm going to ignore you, i miss you, but i don't want to see you" was about all i could take. i decided not to go out, and plop my happy ass on the couch to internet all night. after he's done getting ready he comes upstairs and is all "are you ok?". i tell him i'm as ok as i'm going to be. he asks what that's about and i tell him i'm not thrilled that i don't get to see him that evening, but i'd rather be ignored by him while at home and Not spending money, than with him right there and i'm alone in a crowd. he gets that "ugh. my girlfriend is crazy" huff about him, which upsets me even more, because HE brought it up, and HE'S the one who kept prying. i tell him i'm sick to death of all his passive agressive hints that he wants me out of the house (there are millions), and if he wants some time to himself, he should come right out and say it. he tells me he feels like he's being a dick when he does - and what control do I have over that?! i'm not thrilled when he says "get out" but i don't make a huff about it. if he feels like a dick, then that's somethign HE needs to figure out. he gets even huffier, acting like i'm some crazy drama queen, and his friends are calling and it's apparent he wants to get out, so i tell him "look. you want me out, then just say it. it's fine. go drink. when you get back, i'll be gone"
he storms out.
i hang out a bit, go over the whole thing with jeffy. he says i was acting pretty rationally, better than any other girl he knows, which makes me feel a little better, because i'm feeling guilty for not just lying and pretending everything is ok.
then, i do the girliest thing i've ever done in this relationship. i was just going to pack a very large overnight bag, because i didn't know when i'd be back at his place, and didn't want to come back for at least the weekend (I was PISSED). instead i packed up EVERYTHING. i put as much in my car as i could, and everything else went into the bin i keep my clothes in, in his room. i guess i left a few things in his medicine cabinet, and in the living room (and clearly the fridge and cabinets), but when he got home my part of the shelves and closet were empty. i was just so hurt and angry, i kept thinking "if he doesn't want to have me around, he won't get any reminders. it'll just be him. i'll remove every reminder of me because he clearly doesn't want me"
which is melodramatic, i know. but i refer back to the anger, and hurt, and emotional rollercoaster. besides, all he'd have to do is look in the bin to find most of my stuff
so, i went to my apt., where phebe is still in my room, so i've been sleeping on the couch.
that was all friday. we didn't talk yesterday. today is sunday, and he hasn't called yet. i'm waiting for him to call, because i'm still pretty upset. this a relates to the bigger issue of him not committing in ANY way to me, and not even being able to say he wants me to come back from china next fall. i know i'm not helping the issue by not calling, and by being so dramatic (which, let's be honest, for a girl was barely dramatic at all!), but DAMMIT i need him to do something for me! i need him to reach out for me, to show me he wants me around, that he needs me. i need him to choose me. and none of that has happened. every step of our relationship has happened because i've made the move, and i'd REALLY like for him to give a little something back. i feel like i'm just repeating every relationship i've ever been in, where i overestimate who i'm with, and where it's going. and now i've gotten myself deep into something only to find out it wasn't that deep to begin with, and now i'm falling out the other side.
in other words i'm profoundly not happy. and i'm not going back until he reaches out to me.