Baby, We're Bent Not Broken

I'm almost thirty minutes into the New Year. 2012.

I didn't think I'd make it this far.

I'm sitting in my best friend's apartment, The Boondock Saints on the television. I've been crying for ten minutes, at least.

Croc is coming back. This is a horrible idea for everyone involved, me, She Who Must Be Kept, Croc. He started to drive up here two days ago. SWMBK didn't tell me because she didn't want to upset me.

Oops. That worked well, huh?

When this was originally mentioned, he was supposed to stay two weeks. Now it will be longer than two weeks, but "hopefully" not longer than a month.

I told SWMBK that I am leaving.I cannot take living with him. I cannot. I don't have this kind of energy. I don't have it in me. I... I don't know what to do anymore.

Bubby and his fiancee had said I can live with them and pay a small rent fee. It is temporary. SWMBK promised. And she's paying my rent because she didn't think it was fair that she's bringing someone into my home that makes me so miserable. Miserable enough for me to leave.

"You don't have to go. I don't want you to go. Please try. Please try to live with him."

"Mom, every word out of his mouth is something negative and I don't need that."

"No no, I made him promise this time he'd be still!" You have to get him to promise to shut up. Yeah, he should sooo move in.

"No, that's not good enough. He has sooo many ideas about what I should do around the house, you know, in my abundance of free time because I don't work and go to school. But he never does anything. I'm fucking tired of coming home from standing on my feet for five hours, or sometimes for ten hours, and having him lay around on our couch. Why the hell is he so tired? What did he do all day?"

That was, of course, really unfair for me to say. Anyone can sleep whenever they want, really. Maybe he was tired because he is chronically ill. I don't know.

"I know, but it won't be like that this time."

"Yes, it will. He has problems everywhere he lives and he's sure it isn't him. Well, he's the common denominator! And it's all waaaah, my life is sad. Well, fuck, he needs to fix it and I don't want to hear about it."

"I just want you to try!"

"I tried it for six months."

"I knew you'd leave. I knew you were going to leave."

"Then why are you so surprised?"

"I just feel like you're abandoning me."

I don't want to leave. I don't. I want to stay there. My cats are there. My beloved BED is there. My sewing machine. My books. My mother. Everything. I want to stay there.

(How can I be leaving my cats? I am the worst Mommy ever.)

"I'm sorry. I'll pay the rent. I'm sorry. I'm the reason you're leaving."

The thing is, she SHOULD be able to have people move in if she wants. I'm the one with the problem. I should leave, I shouldn't make her change her life to suit me. We're both adults.

It's just...

I wanted her to pick me.

Just this one time.