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Wednesday, January 23, 2008

...and if you don't like it...

So here's the thing: Even though I love love love you, (please note that I used 3 loves and not just 1) I cannot live with you.

And no, it's not you. It's totally totally totally me.

You see, I'm an only child. And as an only child, I have this innate inability to share. Anything. At all. Period.

And this includes my house.

I want to be able to talk on the phone, without you listening in. I want to be able to leave my bedroom door open, so that the cat can wonder in and out, whenever she wants. And I hate that I have to close my bedroom door, whenever I want to change my clothes, have a private conversation (in hushed tones,) or just be left alone. I hate that whenever I want to leave the confinement of my bedroom, I have to put on a bra, or clothes for that matter...for just in case reasons. But most of all, I hate that I'm the one who has an extra room in her house. Because if it wasn't for that, then I wouldn't be in this situation, now would I? It sucks that every single person, on the face of this Earth, thinks that just because I have this extra room, with this extra bed, that I'll be happy to share it. Guess what? I'm not. I didn't buy this house, with this extra room for you. I bought it for me. I bought it for the very rare event that my parents might want somewhere to sleep whenever they come and visit. Or my grandpa. But really, that's it. Because as mentioned previously, I don't like to share.

But I just don't understand, really, why you're at my house. I want to understand. Actually I'm trying really really hard to be understanding. I wake up every morning, and talk myself out of being angry about it all. But...well...I don't know...I guess that if I were in your situation, I'd go home. As in home-home. Like to my parents' home. I don't know...I've never been in your situation. So maybe I wouldn't. But I don't think that I would or could bring myself to live in anyone else's home, other than my parents', without paying rent. And yes, I know the money situation. Which is why I think, were I in your situation, I'd go home. But like I said, maybe I would act differently, if I walked a mile in your shoes. And I think that's why I haven't said anything to you. What if there is that one day when I need a place to stay? I know, for a fact, that you would let me stay with you. Even though I would just go to my parents' house instead.

I'll get over it eventually. But admittedly, it won't be until after you leave. And hopefully, you won't hold it against me. Because we both knew ahead of time, that this is the way that I am. And even though I'm typing this out on the internet, for the whole world to read, I'm banking on the notion that you won't read it. I'm banking on the notion that the whole world is assuming that I don't blog anymore.

And yes, I know...I'm selfish. But I'm allowed to be like that in my own house.

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posted by The Merry Widow at 12:13 PM |


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