The Co-Dependency Bitch

I feel as if the general tone of anything that can come from me today is either going to be angry or sarcastic. The line is thin and faint, and I'm criss crossing it to diversify my emotional state.

Last night I had one of those very lovely telephone conversations where you end up wishing that you could turn your phone cord into a noose and use it to hang yourself. It was awkward, and weird and it was a 80%-20% blame split with Noel enjoying the larger portion of the blame.

I went to Munich on Monday and Noel and I were forced to endure our first long term non-communicato stretch....3 days. God, I've become a co-dependent freak of nature who would rather talk to a boy on the phone that watch Veronica Mars episodes. And I know what that means in my world, it means I've gone stark raving, ape shit mad and I need to be stopped by the single police and return to my normal station in life...singledom. Unfortunately, I entered the "twosome" dark side a long time ago. At the time, I was okay with the selling of my soul to the "twosome" God in exchange for the other half of my twosome being a normal, non-assholish man. I got what I asked for....ish. Yes, he is normal, and yes he is no asshole, but there must be something about that cursed Y chromosome that causes the male brain to work at what I'm now calling "idiot" capacity. I did take 20% of the blame, but there's a whole 80% that had nothing to do with my neurosis.

This story goes a little something like this. I had bronchitis (see below), a bitch of a plague that had me bed ridden and closeted in my room like the creepy old skeleton man from Tales From The Crypt. I smelled like Vicks vapor rub, looked like Oprah without make-up and mumbled, fumbled and garbled all my sentences like Lindsay Lohan on her third run to the local 7-Eleven for another bottle of cheap Rum. I was great company though. Half-lucid, semi-conscious people are always cool to hang with....they never realize half the shit that's going on anyway. Throughout my plague Noel called me regularly to check on how well my lungs were holding up under the strain of multiple layers of over-active mucus (I know, good times). Our final goodbye (yes, it felt that dramatic) was sweet, even if it was over MSN. There were exchanges of quasi "I'll Miss You" type things (direct Noel quote: "I'll try to keep it together without you for the next 72 hours") that seemed very adorable, sincere and genuine.....until I got back from Munich and had the phone conversation from hell. As the queen of sarcasm, I find I need to hear a person's voice to gage if there is any facetiousness to their remarks. MSN is my downfall. During the infamous phone call I realized that those sweet words of goodbye might not have been quite as sincere as I believed while I was in the MSN world.

I called Noel on Thursday (after I spent mucho time thinking about him) and the vibe was weird. I asked, because I couldn't help myself, how things went "on the missing front", where he replied "by missing, do you mean missing you?" and I thought "DUH!?" but simply replied "yeah." What happened next was one of those pauses you never want to hear when asking somebody a question that has an answer you are emotionally tied to. He paused, and I broke right in and said "forget I even asked". His reply? To throw in a "kinda". KINDA!?!?!? I mean this beats Jay's response of "okay" when I finally told him I liked him. God, I am a slave to the retarded responses of men who have no idea how to articulate themselves one way or another. He KINDA missed me whereas I was thinking about whether we'd ever see Munich together. Fucking co-dependent emotional bullshit.

I asked, in a round about way, whether he missed me because I couldn't stop myself from wanting to hear what I thought was coming....something along the lines of "Of course, I missed you." That's what was eluded to before I left, that was what was implied in our last conversation and I just assumed that he had missed me as much as I had missed him. It suddenly hit me that everything from Sunday night was said in jest, to be cute rather than real. He never recovered from that "kinda" and neither did I. It was strange and awkward from that moment on and by not rising above that one word and making things even more awkward I take 20% of the blame. As you've read above....I happily give him the remaining 80%.

I realized in that moment I need to be the girl I was 2 months ago...detached, skeptical and single. I don't need this kind of male induced headache in the middle of an almost quarter life crisis. I decided that an emotional step back was necessary, both to reassess how I feel about this time in my life, this person in my life, and also to give Noel an opportunity to see what life is like without me. Talking to him everyday, being so utterly available because I suck at playing "the game" has made a guy who appreciated my presence start taking it for granted. I don't need this because co-dependency is the death nail to individualism, and I am the biggest proponent of the individual. Noel isn't going to be the reason I forget that I come first because my emotions want to include him in my "MY" time.

I find this need to possess and be possessed destructive. My mind needs a rest, and by rest I mean it needs to be re-focused on the things that matter most....me and my life.