![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
amulTHO and I have been trying to avoid using (f)AD as a ping-pong ball, and so in his effort to interact with me directly, he wrote me a letter which he just handed to me.
I deal with my initial reactions under the cut, so as not to abuse him directly.
Before I begin, though, I should mention that these last two weeks have been almost blissfully calm, barring an occasional emotional outburst, usually from me. Still, things are a lot more comfortable than they have been.
This all seemed to have started because of a conversation (f)AD and I had on the drive back from Pittsburgh. She was trying to defend THO from some of my opinions when I interrupted her. I believe the phrase you're looking for is, "He's a nice guy, once you get to know him."
I have a lot of concerns about this guy and his suitability as a partner for the woman I once (and possibly still) loved so intensely. This letter of his does nothing to ease any of them.
First, and most offensive, is his continued presumption that he has any idea of what I'm going through, given that (f)AD is the only serious relationship he's ever had. I try very hard to bite down on this, acknowledge that his youth prevents him from having the experience necessary to respond to me appropriately, but the simple fact of the matter is that he stole my girlfriend, and therefore the first thing I ever knew about him is that he is selfish, and wantonly destructive of other people's lives in pursuit of his own desires.
The few conversations which I've managed to stomache with (f)AD about him do little to relieve this opinion of mine. He lost the first job he had in Athens, after the pregnancy, because he refused to wear deodorant at work. To my mind, this only emphasizes his selfish devotion to ideals in the face of financial disaster. They had nothing, no money, no home, were facing a giant pile of medical bills on the horizon, and it didn't occur to him that this was not a time to defy workplace morality.
He didn't learn this lesson, either. He arrived in Chicago three weeks ago with no money, no plan, and distraught that he could not live with his girlfriend. Yet, when the owner of a vegan restaurant was kind enough to give him a job, starting the next day (even bought (f)AD and him a meal after the interview), he quit after barely four hours because, he claims, the owner was sexist. "I have this sure-bet opportunity, anyway" was his argument. Yet he took another two weeks to actually track down that job. Perhaps it's unfair of me to judge him harshly on this score, given my current financial dependence on my parents, but if my girlfriend was living with her ex-boyfriend, there's nothing I wouldn't subject myself to in the name of becoming financially stable enough to escape that position.
He is selfish, and what's more he is deceitful, in a grand and self-righteous manner. He loudly proclaims attitudes which he believes in but has no experience practicing. He professes that he will have no problem maintaining ideals which have never been put to the test. Now, I've no problem with wanting to be more than you already are, it would be hypocritical of me to do so as I spend so much time trying the same thing. It is not the morality itself I have problems with (although I am at odds with it), it is the arrogant manner by which he proclaims and pretends that he has already achieved these morals. That is deceit, and it means that I can trust nothing he says, for I will never be sure if the things he says are what he believes, or merely what he wants to believe.
In this letter, he states that he takes offense to the idea that I judge him only by the actions I've seen firsthand, as those were particularly trying times. By contrast, I believe that there is no better time to judge a man.
In this next section of his letter, he completely misses my point. That is going to be a long and delicate conversation. It's a loathsome task, too, because it will require explaining some of my relationship history to him, and it rubs against my grain to so freely give this usurper any insight into me. But I suppose, for the sake of (f)AD, I must do so.
He implores me to let down my barriers and attempt to develop a friendship with him. That's nearly as offensive to me as his presumption that he can understand what I'm going through. What possible desire could I have to befriend someone who has hurt me so deeply? I'm willing to work towards cordiality, honesty, and perhaps even grudging respect, but I feel that after our interactions thus far, only the first two are really possible. But friendship?
I allow him into my home when I'm not around, so that he and (f)AD can have somewhere to relax together that doesn't cost money. I suggested he sleep down in the performance space when (f)AD was crying over the fact that he was sleeping on the streets. I've been told repeatedly by many, many people, that they would never be so gracious. So again, perhaps I am blinded by my emotions, but I find this request arrogant, and insulting. Of course it is easy for him to consider friendship with me. I've done nothing to hurt him. He, on the other hand, cut me deeply and profoundly. He and (f)AD both, but she has done much to repair the hurt. When I think of the number of times that (f)AD called me over the winter, crying over their difficulties and his distance, the times she was driven so far as to beg me to take her back (brief moments of bitter anguish, I know, never once did I suspect that she truly wanted that), to be forced by my emotions to care for and give council to her in the best ways to sustain her relationship with the man she left me for....and he wants even more from me.
What a mad creature is this heart of mine, which suffers so gladly for her comfort, she who tossed me aside after demanding so often that I keep her. All my intellect proves utterly insubstantial in the face of my screaming wrath. I want to spit on him, destroy him, force him into ordeals that push his true nature against his high-minded and heavy handed philosophies. But the memory of her slumped shoulders, her tired posture, snuff those dark urges as easily as a hurricane blows out a candle. Truly, I have never been so emotionally driven as I have these last three weeks. It is frightening, to be so utterly lost to the demands of my heart.
I hate him. If it were not for her, I would exult in his every misfortune. He took from me the one piece of my life in Pittsburgh that I, in my madness, still could cherish. He drove me mad when I was already half-crazed. He stole from me, her love, her company, her voice, her laughter, and no matter how I try to think, it still hurts. His very presence causes me violent emotional mood swings, and even his absence is a presence in my home, my sanctuary, which I cannot escape, which drives me to inexplicable tears seemingly without provocation.
I did not sign on to deal with him. I agreed to let her stay with me because he was leaving her, and I could not bear the thought of her alone, friendless, without a home or any support to help her achieve her dreams. I cannot even faintly begin to understand why she still wanted to come to Chicago when she knew that she still had him for support, for emotional nourishment. She seems equally at a loss to explain it, and the dark part of me whispers that she is using me, that she cannot explain why she came because the truth would hurt. My only refuge against such battles between my synapses and heartstrings is the idea that, if she is using me, she regrets it even as she takes from me. In my few respites, I believe that she craves my support and approval almost as much as she needs him.
But even still, I did not agree to comfort him, or support him. Every piece of stability he has right now, he owes to my love for her. It is cold, burnt ash in my mouth to even admit it. He wouldn't even be able to make himself presentable for job interviews, were it not for my willingness to sacrifice on her behalf. These things he asks of me now, in this letter, are simply too much. But for her, I will endure it. For the heart she gave back to me, I will let him trample the same. For the joy she taught me to feel again, for the Life she helped me to believe in, I will endure this.
I deal with my initial reactions under the cut, so as not to abuse him directly.
Before I begin, though, I should mention that these last two weeks have been almost blissfully calm, barring an occasional emotional outburst, usually from me. Still, things are a lot more comfortable than they have been.
This all seemed to have started because of a conversation (f)AD and I had on the drive back from Pittsburgh. She was trying to defend THO from some of my opinions when I interrupted her. I believe the phrase you're looking for is, "He's a nice guy, once you get to know him."
I have a lot of concerns about this guy and his suitability as a partner for the woman I once (and possibly still) loved so intensely. This letter of his does nothing to ease any of them.
First, and most offensive, is his continued presumption that he has any idea of what I'm going through, given that (f)AD is the only serious relationship he's ever had. I try very hard to bite down on this, acknowledge that his youth prevents him from having the experience necessary to respond to me appropriately, but the simple fact of the matter is that he stole my girlfriend, and therefore the first thing I ever knew about him is that he is selfish, and wantonly destructive of other people's lives in pursuit of his own desires.
The few conversations which I've managed to stomache with (f)AD about him do little to relieve this opinion of mine. He lost the first job he had in Athens, after the pregnancy, because he refused to wear deodorant at work. To my mind, this only emphasizes his selfish devotion to ideals in the face of financial disaster. They had nothing, no money, no home, were facing a giant pile of medical bills on the horizon, and it didn't occur to him that this was not a time to defy workplace morality.
He didn't learn this lesson, either. He arrived in Chicago three weeks ago with no money, no plan, and distraught that he could not live with his girlfriend. Yet, when the owner of a vegan restaurant was kind enough to give him a job, starting the next day (even bought (f)AD and him a meal after the interview), he quit after barely four hours because, he claims, the owner was sexist. "I have this sure-bet opportunity, anyway" was his argument. Yet he took another two weeks to actually track down that job. Perhaps it's unfair of me to judge him harshly on this score, given my current financial dependence on my parents, but if my girlfriend was living with her ex-boyfriend, there's nothing I wouldn't subject myself to in the name of becoming financially stable enough to escape that position.
He is selfish, and what's more he is deceitful, in a grand and self-righteous manner. He loudly proclaims attitudes which he believes in but has no experience practicing. He professes that he will have no problem maintaining ideals which have never been put to the test. Now, I've no problem with wanting to be more than you already are, it would be hypocritical of me to do so as I spend so much time trying the same thing. It is not the morality itself I have problems with (although I am at odds with it), it is the arrogant manner by which he proclaims and pretends that he has already achieved these morals. That is deceit, and it means that I can trust nothing he says, for I will never be sure if the things he says are what he believes, or merely what he wants to believe.
In this letter, he states that he takes offense to the idea that I judge him only by the actions I've seen firsthand, as those were particularly trying times. By contrast, I believe that there is no better time to judge a man.
In this next section of his letter, he completely misses my point. That is going to be a long and delicate conversation. It's a loathsome task, too, because it will require explaining some of my relationship history to him, and it rubs against my grain to so freely give this usurper any insight into me. But I suppose, for the sake of (f)AD, I must do so.
He implores me to let down my barriers and attempt to develop a friendship with him. That's nearly as offensive to me as his presumption that he can understand what I'm going through. What possible desire could I have to befriend someone who has hurt me so deeply? I'm willing to work towards cordiality, honesty, and perhaps even grudging respect, but I feel that after our interactions thus far, only the first two are really possible. But friendship?
I allow him into my home when I'm not around, so that he and (f)AD can have somewhere to relax together that doesn't cost money. I suggested he sleep down in the performance space when (f)AD was crying over the fact that he was sleeping on the streets. I've been told repeatedly by many, many people, that they would never be so gracious. So again, perhaps I am blinded by my emotions, but I find this request arrogant, and insulting. Of course it is easy for him to consider friendship with me. I've done nothing to hurt him. He, on the other hand, cut me deeply and profoundly. He and (f)AD both, but she has done much to repair the hurt. When I think of the number of times that (f)AD called me over the winter, crying over their difficulties and his distance, the times she was driven so far as to beg me to take her back (brief moments of bitter anguish, I know, never once did I suspect that she truly wanted that), to be forced by my emotions to care for and give council to her in the best ways to sustain her relationship with the man she left me for....and he wants even more from me.
What a mad creature is this heart of mine, which suffers so gladly for her comfort, she who tossed me aside after demanding so often that I keep her. All my intellect proves utterly insubstantial in the face of my screaming wrath. I want to spit on him, destroy him, force him into ordeals that push his true nature against his high-minded and heavy handed philosophies. But the memory of her slumped shoulders, her tired posture, snuff those dark urges as easily as a hurricane blows out a candle. Truly, I have never been so emotionally driven as I have these last three weeks. It is frightening, to be so utterly lost to the demands of my heart.
I hate him. If it were not for her, I would exult in his every misfortune. He took from me the one piece of my life in Pittsburgh that I, in my madness, still could cherish. He drove me mad when I was already half-crazed. He stole from me, her love, her company, her voice, her laughter, and no matter how I try to think, it still hurts. His very presence causes me violent emotional mood swings, and even his absence is a presence in my home, my sanctuary, which I cannot escape, which drives me to inexplicable tears seemingly without provocation.
I did not sign on to deal with him. I agreed to let her stay with me because he was leaving her, and I could not bear the thought of her alone, friendless, without a home or any support to help her achieve her dreams. I cannot even faintly begin to understand why she still wanted to come to Chicago when she knew that she still had him for support, for emotional nourishment. She seems equally at a loss to explain it, and the dark part of me whispers that she is using me, that she cannot explain why she came because the truth would hurt. My only refuge against such battles between my synapses and heartstrings is the idea that, if she is using me, she regrets it even as she takes from me. In my few respites, I believe that she craves my support and approval almost as much as she needs him.
But even still, I did not agree to comfort him, or support him. Every piece of stability he has right now, he owes to my love for her. It is cold, burnt ash in my mouth to even admit it. He wouldn't even be able to make himself presentable for job interviews, were it not for my willingness to sacrifice on her behalf. These things he asks of me now, in this letter, are simply too much. But for her, I will endure it. For the heart she gave back to me, I will let him trample the same. For the joy she taught me to feel again, for the Life she helped me to believe in, I will endure this.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 12 Jun 2006 03:02 (UTC)no subject
Date: 12 Jun 2006 03:37 (UTC)I'd like to thank you for saying that. It was my original intent, and it seems like few people took it that way.
In fairness to (f)AD, after we finished talking about it, I can see why she took it as an attack on both of them. I made a rash post, she rashly commented on it. We talked about it and I think we all understand each other a bit better.
no subject
Date: 12 Jun 2006 03:55 (UTC)The rage and misjudgement of Amul's post caused me to respond in kind, to this and other instances of him publicly berating my partner and myself. I'm not particularly proud of my response, as I know full well that continuing a cycle of insults doesn't do much to solve a problem. This is something I constantly work to correct.
Amul & I have since discussed these matters personally and have achieved something of a resolution.
no subject
Date: 12 Jun 2006 04:07 (UTC)I'll say it one more time, in the Public Forum, for emphasis. You need to stop worrying about hurting me by talking about what you're going through and just let me hurt over it. You don't need to apologize or feel guilty about it. You've done all that you can do in the time we've spent working on it already, and now you just need to let me heal at my pace. I'll stop you when it gets to be more than I can bear, but I'm never going to come to terms with it if you don't start talking to me about the way you two feel for each other.
no subject
Date: 12 Jun 2006 04:54 (UTC)I was really torn on commenting to you. It seemed like you were being unfair from your own words, but at the same time you felt you were being judged unfairly. You sound like a very interesting person (with none of the sarcastic snobbery that can imply) and Amul certainly speaks highly of you. I felt bad for Amul if the situation was in fact as it was presented, and bad for you if you were just trying to defend yourself without realizing how harsh you sounded. Hence my attempt at a compromise.
I also must admit you both have my bafflement, and respect for even making this situation kind of work.
I'm glad you said something.
Date: 12 Jun 2006 05:23 (UTC)