household tornadoes and other unwelcome drama
Well well... Seems J could not handle the changing dynamics of farm personnel. Namely, he didn't want me here. Specifically, he couldn't deal with L having a girlfriend.
There are so many ingredients to this fall-out that I hesitate to delve into the matter. When people live together, they bring their baggage too. For J, his baggage simply could not compliment or compromise. And while I'm at this armchair psychology, I suspect J's inability to get along with others is what initially brought him to the farm. (BG: J is 42, gay, single, no relationships of any significant length to speak of.) For a while it worked. He could escape the social pressure of Chicago and have a puppy crush on L--he knew nothing would happen between them (or did he hope they would?), so it was safe. He didn't have to work on himself or deal with dating/rejection/relationship maintenance, and could be the hero/martyr for L because J gave up city life to help L with his mom and the farm because he's such a good friend.
But three's a crowd, especially if the new addition is sleeping with the object of another's complicated, emotional coat rack. You just can't hang up so much on a person, but J constantly looked to L for validation, company, praise, not to mention financial support. It was stressing out L, to say the least. "You're all I have here" is not only untrue, but wildly unfair to state. Before I even moved here J was complaining about being a 3rd wheel and threatening to leave because he "didn't sign up for this." Jealous, much? To wit: grow up, man. Learn to share and deal with change.
L said J was at a constant irrational state ever since it was clear I was moving to the farm. "His world was crumbling because he couldn't be my 'wife' anymore," L exclaimed last night. Take cooking, for instance. J cooked every night and L did the dishes. Seemed odd, but I didn't ponder it much--L doesn't like to cook and truly enjoys washing dishes. But I didn't realize how much cooking meant to J until it was too late. We switched off, but he was trying to steal my nights and talking shit about my diet almost from the start. J tried to spin it like he and L were subject to my food and taste, but in reality, L said, "We were subject to his diet, because I'll eat anything." But deeper than that? J was cooking for L, his man. Eeesh...
So after two encounters with me--one heated, one very minor--J left, abruptly and in a rage. I thought it was all a bluff until I saw he took his books and framed photos. (Though that he left his beloved Salad Spinner behind gives me pause.) L won't ask him back now that he's seen J's inability to compromise and work with others; that's just not going to fly on a farm. We're going to have more people here, and coming to an agreeable and profitable consensus is key to our survival. No one is king, but if there is one, it's clearly L. His land, his farm. That J had some sense of ownership and entitlement was ridiculous.
I'm sad that it came to this. J could use some professional help, otherwise he's going to continue burning bridges. Big time. These guys go back 10 years, so I hope they can eventually patch up this mess. However... I'm not missing his loud, obnoxious, my-way-or-the-highway drama. And finally, L can relax in his own home.
There are so many ingredients to this fall-out that I hesitate to delve into the matter. When people live together, they bring their baggage too. For J, his baggage simply could not compliment or compromise. And while I'm at this armchair psychology, I suspect J's inability to get along with others is what initially brought him to the farm. (BG: J is 42, gay, single, no relationships of any significant length to speak of.) For a while it worked. He could escape the social pressure of Chicago and have a puppy crush on L--he knew nothing would happen between them (or did he hope they would?), so it was safe. He didn't have to work on himself or deal with dating/rejection/relationship maintenance, and could be the hero/martyr for L because J gave up city life to help L with his mom and the farm because he's such a good friend.
But three's a crowd, especially if the new addition is sleeping with the object of another's complicated, emotional coat rack. You just can't hang up so much on a person, but J constantly looked to L for validation, company, praise, not to mention financial support. It was stressing out L, to say the least. "You're all I have here" is not only untrue, but wildly unfair to state. Before I even moved here J was complaining about being a 3rd wheel and threatening to leave because he "didn't sign up for this." Jealous, much? To wit: grow up, man. Learn to share and deal with change.
L said J was at a constant irrational state ever since it was clear I was moving to the farm. "His world was crumbling because he couldn't be my 'wife' anymore," L exclaimed last night. Take cooking, for instance. J cooked every night and L did the dishes. Seemed odd, but I didn't ponder it much--L doesn't like to cook and truly enjoys washing dishes. But I didn't realize how much cooking meant to J until it was too late. We switched off, but he was trying to steal my nights and talking shit about my diet almost from the start. J tried to spin it like he and L were subject to my food and taste, but in reality, L said, "We were subject to his diet, because I'll eat anything." But deeper than that? J was cooking for L, his man. Eeesh...
So after two encounters with me--one heated, one very minor--J left, abruptly and in a rage. I thought it was all a bluff until I saw he took his books and framed photos. (Though that he left his beloved Salad Spinner behind gives me pause.) L won't ask him back now that he's seen J's inability to compromise and work with others; that's just not going to fly on a farm. We're going to have more people here, and coming to an agreeable and profitable consensus is key to our survival. No one is king, but if there is one, it's clearly L. His land, his farm. That J had some sense of ownership and entitlement was ridiculous.
I'm sad that it came to this. J could use some professional help, otherwise he's going to continue burning bridges. Big time. These guys go back 10 years, so I hope they can eventually patch up this mess. However... I'm not missing his loud, obnoxious, my-way-or-the-highway drama. And finally, L can relax in his own home.