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mallorys_cameraOn Christmas Day Max read me the riot act.
“Don’t ever see him, Mom! Don’t hang out with him, don’t talk to him, and for God’s sake, don’t be friends with him. He’s an asshole. You covered for him for years – “
“We’re just so compatible in so many ways,” I objected weakly.
“You always say that, but you know something? I never saw it. Never. You sell yourself so short, Mom. You’re amazing. You don’t need him.”
Of course I hadn’t told Max what was really going on, just texted him on Christmas Eve: I need a pep talk. Also on Christmas Eve, Ben and I kissed a few times – yes, with tongue – and more or less wept into each other’s arms about how sad it was that we hadn’t been able to keep it together, and told one another that yes, we would love each other forever – that kind of stuff. I will spare you the narrative details of how all this came about. More of the same, more of the same.
He needs me because Jayne LeGro, despite the manifest attractiveness of the Girlfriendmobile and the great deal on rent and the (presumably) plentiful blowjobs and leave us not forget the furniture, has no sense of humor and bores the shit out of him.
And I need him because I know so few people in Ithaca, New York. When you’re 58 years old but living a life more appropriate to someone in their late 20s/early 30s, it is very difficult to find people of your own vintage to hang out with. They tend to view me as marginal and flakey – which I suppose to a great extent I am right now. However, it was not always thus and I’m working very hard to ensure that it will not be thus in a year’s time. I am clawing my way back into the middle class! Hard work.
Plus, of course, three quarters of my income comes from writing and that is very solitary employment.
I am very sociable. I like to chat and hang out. I’ve been starved for opportunities to do this for close to two years now, and of course Ben is someone with whom I have a long history of chatting and hanging out. That tends to inflate his importance.
But Max, as usual, is 100% correct. I got the apology I’d long been waiting for; it ends now on a positive note filled with best wishes for the other’s happiness.
Time to move on. I wish now I wasn’t meeting Jayne LeGro tomorrow – whose eyes shot daggers at me when I tried to introduce myself to her the other night at the gas station. What was I thinking? She’s a small town girl with small town values. She’s not interested in being friendly with me.
“And Mom?” Max says. “If by some chance you did get back together with him, I would have a very hard time respecting you. I try not to be judgmental, but after all the shit he pulled for so many years, it would be very hard for me. I need you to know that.”
###
So I joined one of those online dating sites. Got messaged a few times right off the bat – two guys, one woman. They didn’t sound too awful. It’s a distraction, right?
And I think I’m going to spend next summer in New Mexico. I can help Jeanna run the drive-in, but more importantly I can lay in a stock of pleasant memories that don’t include Ben. I mentioned this to Robin who immediately said, “So you wouldn’t come back?”
“As long as you’re here and you want me to be here, I’ll come back. I like Ithaca quite well actually. But you’re old enough to understand that psychologically this situation is unhealthy for me.”
“I guess,” he muttered.
A few minutes later he asked, “Do you think I could spend next year living with Uncle Jon in Vienna?”
“I think it’s a distinct possibility,” I said. “I think we’d have to strategize.”
It would be great for him though. And for me. Though like all addictions, my addiction to Ben is very hard to break – I think of never seeing him again, and my eyes quite literally well up with tears.
“Don’t ever see him, Mom! Don’t hang out with him, don’t talk to him, and for God’s sake, don’t be friends with him. He’s an asshole. You covered for him for years – “
“We’re just so compatible in so many ways,” I objected weakly.
“You always say that, but you know something? I never saw it. Never. You sell yourself so short, Mom. You’re amazing. You don’t need him.”
Of course I hadn’t told Max what was really going on, just texted him on Christmas Eve: I need a pep talk. Also on Christmas Eve, Ben and I kissed a few times – yes, with tongue – and more or less wept into each other’s arms about how sad it was that we hadn’t been able to keep it together, and told one another that yes, we would love each other forever – that kind of stuff. I will spare you the narrative details of how all this came about. More of the same, more of the same.
He needs me because Jayne LeGro, despite the manifest attractiveness of the Girlfriendmobile and the great deal on rent and the (presumably) plentiful blowjobs and leave us not forget the furniture, has no sense of humor and bores the shit out of him.
And I need him because I know so few people in Ithaca, New York. When you’re 58 years old but living a life more appropriate to someone in their late 20s/early 30s, it is very difficult to find people of your own vintage to hang out with. They tend to view me as marginal and flakey – which I suppose to a great extent I am right now. However, it was not always thus and I’m working very hard to ensure that it will not be thus in a year’s time. I am clawing my way back into the middle class! Hard work.
Plus, of course, three quarters of my income comes from writing and that is very solitary employment.
I am very sociable. I like to chat and hang out. I’ve been starved for opportunities to do this for close to two years now, and of course Ben is someone with whom I have a long history of chatting and hanging out. That tends to inflate his importance.
But Max, as usual, is 100% correct. I got the apology I’d long been waiting for; it ends now on a positive note filled with best wishes for the other’s happiness.
Time to move on. I wish now I wasn’t meeting Jayne LeGro tomorrow – whose eyes shot daggers at me when I tried to introduce myself to her the other night at the gas station. What was I thinking? She’s a small town girl with small town values. She’s not interested in being friendly with me.
“And Mom?” Max says. “If by some chance you did get back together with him, I would have a very hard time respecting you. I try not to be judgmental, but after all the shit he pulled for so many years, it would be very hard for me. I need you to know that.”
So I joined one of those online dating sites. Got messaged a few times right off the bat – two guys, one woman. They didn’t sound too awful. It’s a distraction, right?
And I think I’m going to spend next summer in New Mexico. I can help Jeanna run the drive-in, but more importantly I can lay in a stock of pleasant memories that don’t include Ben. I mentioned this to Robin who immediately said, “So you wouldn’t come back?”
“As long as you’re here and you want me to be here, I’ll come back. I like Ithaca quite well actually. But you’re old enough to understand that psychologically this situation is unhealthy for me.”
“I guess,” he muttered.
A few minutes later he asked, “Do you think I could spend next year living with Uncle Jon in Vienna?”
“I think it’s a distinct possibility,” I said. “I think we’d have to strategize.”
It would be great for him though. And for me. Though like all addictions, my addiction to Ben is very hard to break – I think of never seeing him again, and my eyes quite literally well up with tears.
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no subject
Date: 2010-12-26 05:54 pm (UTC)I don't hate Ben, nor is there any "rule" that says I have to hate Ben. As it happens, Ben is a psychopathic liar -- or at least he was with me. Every four months or so he would trot out a lie of truly epic proportions. Some of these lies were self-aggrandizing -- for years he maintained he was a founding member of a cult punk band named Flipper. Max finally caught him out on that one. But some of these lies actually imperiled our life together. because they involved finances.
Eventually these lies eroded my relationship with him, and clearly Max's relationship with him.
Possibly he has learned from this and will be straight with his current partner. I hope so for his sake.
no subject
Date: 2010-12-26 06:32 pm (UTC)Ben is a pathological liar. He won't change. The world of a pathological liar shifts. There's nothing on which he could build a determination to change, that isn't subject to the same sort of shift.
You're going to have a relationship of some sort with Ben. Circumstances keep bringing you together. You're in love with him. He's in love with you — perhaps only when his world is shifted into that state; but when his world is shifted into that state, it's as real for him as for anyone.
A relationship with a pathological liar is difficult. Best avoided, actually. Max is right about that, for sure! But it's unrealistic to expect that you'll take it to that extreme, so you need to protect yourself. Cut the cards, as I say. And it wouldn't be a bad idea to cultivate a deep understanding of the world of a pathological liar. You'll be better able to protect yourself from Ben, however close you get; and someday you'll be able to write the character, perhaps even from a first-person point of view.