The Full Story

Okay... so it's more Narc drama. If this is getting tedious for you, skip this post. But I want it here for myself. I might as well fill in the blanks and deliver the rest of the story. Oh, and it's a long one. The most momentous part comes at the end, I think-- the conversation we had this afternoon in which I "told it like it is."

And sorry for the barrage of posts today. I just need to get this out because I don't want to be thinking about this anymore, although I can think of nearly nothing else. (Although Brokeback Mountain was a worthwhile distraction. I thought it was beautiful and surprise, surprise-- I cried.)

Yesterday I had choir practice at night. I was exhausted from the long day, but it managed to get through to me even so. We are singing an arrangement of Barber's Adagio for Strings for 8-part choir. It was absolutely gorgeous! (I have always loved that piece. B used to play it in his dorm room and we would sit there with the halogen light dimmed, talking for hours about philosophy, relationships, life and literature).

And last night I was doing so well. I walked past Cheers on my way home from the bus on my way home from choir at 11:15 pm. I didn't go in. I was determined to make it a cozy night... to treat myself better (in a truer sense than I usually mean). I've been trying so hard this week to turn some of my thinking around.

I got into bed early and snuggled under the covers. There were no pillowcases on my pillows because I had just brought the laundry up and hadn't bothered to put any new ones on... too tired.

He called at 12:14 am. Part of our conversation was caught by the answering machine. It's creepy to hear it. You have to imagine him incoherently slurring and me trying to sound chipper through my sleepiness.

N: Hello! Your---
H: My machine went off.
N: Your machine is obviously getting... getting your thing!
H: Yeah... So, what's up?

(SUPER long pause)

N: What's up?.... Hyde!
H: Yeah?
N: Hello?
H: What are you up to?
N: Hyde?
H: Yeah, I'm here. Can you hear me?
N: Are you alive?
H: (laughing) I'm alive! Are you alive?
N: I don't know... I don't know. (laughs)
H: Narc, you sound pretty drunk. Are you really drunk?
N: Hyde, I'm wasted, but I don' t know. I, I, I, I don't know. I, I, I... Where should I go? I don't know!
H: (a little concerned) Narc, where are you?
N: I want to come and snuggle with, uh... with you.
H: You want to come and snuggle with me?
N: Yes. BUT ONLY if that's "proper."
H: If it's proper?
N: I, I, I... I don't want to fuck it up if it's not proper...

(And then the machine cuts off).

I don't know why I agreed to him coming here. It was like I was operating on automatic pilot. I just said "okay." He asked for my address three times even though he knows where I live. He said he was in a cab, and I could hear him telling the cab driver the address, so I figured he was okay. We hung up the phone and I estimated that I had half an hour.

I got up and took out that garbage that was waiting by the door. I put fresh pillowcases on the bed and sprayed the sheets with lavender (his favorite). I straightened up the living room, erased the "history" and "cached files" on my computer, brushed my teeth and shaved my legs. Then I started to get anxious. What if he couldn't find the apartment? He was that out of it. I decided to wait for him in the lobby. I trudged downstairs in my sweats and curled up in one of the big velvet chairs down there. (NDN likes to call it his "office.") I couldn't sit still though. All that was running through my head was: What are you DOING, Hyde???

I got up and exited into the crisp cold. I paced up and down in front of the building, all the way to the corner. I eyed the smokers outside Cheers. My eyes were stinging from a lack of sleep. Every cab that neared, I craned my neck to see if he were there. Eventually, I started to worry. I called his cell phone once, twice... no answer. 12:59. I texted him: Where are you? A moment later, I got a call back. What the?!?! He was calling me from his home phone.

Do I have the strength to relay our conversation? I'll try. Basically, I asked him what had happened and told him I had been waiting in the lobby. I was clearly upset. He called me a liar and told me I wasn't in the lobby. He demanded I come down to his neighborhood to see him. I refused. He asked if he should come and see me.

"At this point? Don't fucking bother!" I said.

I was upset and needed sleep. Besides, he was incoherently drunk and I was sober. How much fun could that possibly be? He was way beyond good-sex drunk. He kept insisting that I come to him. I kept refusing.

"Why did you say you were on your way here and then not come, Narc?" I demanded.

"Oh, god, Hyde! Isn't it obvious?"

"Not obvious to me! Why don't you go on ahead and spell it out for me."

He sighed in disgust and started calling me a wanker. (Ah, yes! The return of Wanker-Narc!)

"You know why! You know why!" he kept saying.

"Do you wish I were there?" he asked.

"Well, I did," I said. "I mean, I did invite you..."

Then he started saying "Where are you, Hyde? I'm here. Where are you?"

"In my living room," I said.

"I'm here. Where are you?" he repeated.

I gave him my address.

"Yeah, but I'm here. Where are you?"

Oh, I get it. That means I'm supposed to be there with him. I was too tired for this.

He repeated this for quite some time. The repetition was brutal. I kept refusing to go see him.

"I was in bed asleep!" I said. "I don't have cash for a cab! It's late!"

Finally he roared at me. Among a slew of insults, he told me that I suck and he hung up on me.

Let the anxiety begin.

I couldn't let go of it. My stomach was in knots. I couldn't have him mad at me like that... hating me like that. I had to make him understand that I was being reasonable. I called him back. He didn't pick up the phone, but I know he can hear the answering machine, so I started to talk. I didn't know why I called or what to say. I just started talking.

"Narc, it's me. I wanted to say that I hope you remember this in the morning. And I hope that you know that--"

He picked up the phone. He started to tell me that I "suck" again and to insist that I go see him. To tell you the truth, I was relieved he picked up. I'd rather the insults than the silence and that's my problem. At least it's "connection" on some level, right?

He started to insult me again. I tried to explain.

"I have to be here in the morning," I said. "I have some things to do around the house, and then I have an appointment..."

More insults.

"Narc, enough! Don't you have anything nice to say to me anymore? Isn't there a kind word for me anywhere in you? Do you think this is appealing to me? Enticing? For you to call me up and start calling me a wanker and telling me that I suck?"

"I NEVER called you a wanker, Hyde!"

"Narc! You're fucking crazy! You've been calling me that for the past hour! So do you have anything nice to say, or don't you? I mean, c'mon! Please say something nice to me! Please!"

He paused. He was thinking.

"Hyde, I'm in love with you," he began. "I'm in love with you, and I want you... I want you to come feel me."

Oh, god!

"You're not in love with me, Narc," I said calmly. "But it was nice of you to say... Thanks."

Again, a long pause. No response. And then...

"Hyde, you're a wanker. You're wanking me around. I said something nice, and you're not coming."

"Narc, I AM NOT A WANKER!"

This conversation was asinine! Did I just raise my voice with him? Yes, I think I did!

He was a little stunned.

"So, are you angry with me, Hyde?"

I felt humbled and spoke softly now.

"Well, yeah... a little."

"Should I come there? Is that what you want?"

"Well, it's what I wanted..."

"Should I come there now?"

"I don't know, Narc..."

"Okay. I'm coming. I'm coming there. I'm on my way."

He hung up the phone on me, as if he were hurrying out of the house at that very moment. It was 1:32 am.

I was shaking. I wasn't sure if he was coming or not. I mean, I thought he was, but... I couldn't steady my hands. I paced back and forth around the apartment, not sure of what to do with myself. I sat down at the computer to blog and drafted a post. I felt like I was losing my mind. I knew I shouldn't have let him twist things around. How does it go from him waking me up, totally drunk, asking to come over and insulting me to me begging for him to come to my house and feeling like I have to apologize? I knew I shouldn't welcome him into my house in that state. It would only be a fight, and potentially a bad one. It's one thing if we're both drunk, but I didn't want to face him like that in sobriety. My head hurt.

What am I doing? What am I doing? What am I doing? I wrote.
Why did I agree to this? Why is he coming here?
What is wrong with me???????

Half an hour passed. I wondered where he was. I felt like tearing my hair out. So I called him on his cell. He picked up the phone.

"Where are you?" I asked.

"In my living room," he said.

I wanted to scream. I didn't.

We fought again for quite a while. Just imagine the above conversation repeated with slight variations. I asked him where he had been that he got so drunk. He was angry at the question.

"Nowhere! Nowhere!" he said.

"Well, you must have been somewhere."

"Nowhere!"

"So, you got drunk at home?"

He changed the subject.

"What happened to your seven days of writing, Narc?" I asked. "What happened to the seven days with which to change your life? Onward to total victory!"

"I took my seven days! I did it!"

"Um, no. Day 1 would have been Monday. It's Wednesday."

Well, he was furious at that. I won't even tell you what he said.

I couldn't deal with it anymore. I had to end this.

"I'm going to sleep, Narc," I said. "I have to say good night now." (It was about 2:20 am).

"So, you're not coming here?"

"No."

"Fuck you, Hyde! You fucking shit!"

He hung up on me.

I sent him a text: This makes me very sad. Good night, though.

I lay in bed for ten minutes, fifteen minutes. I started to panic. It was a clean panic. My heart was pounding. I had to do something.

I called his cell phone. No answer.

I called his home phone. No answer.

I called his cell again.

I called his home again.

Cell, home, cell, home.

I sent him a text: If you're still up, please give me a call back.

Nothing.

I called his home. I left him a message:

Narc, please pick up. Please... Please pick up the phone. Look... If you really want me to come there, I will... You just have to lend me cab fare. But I'll come if you want me to. Just please pick up.... (I waited). Okay... I guess you're not talking to me. So forget it.

I went back to laying in my bed in a panic, only now it was even worse than before. I stared at the ceiling and it seemed to be sinking. The heater was clanging so loudly I could feel it vibrating in my skull. I pulled a pillow over my head, but that only added to the constriction in my chest, and suddenly I couldn't breathe. I felt a panic attack coming on. I hadn't had one in years, but my face was starting to tingle... my cheeks, and my hands, and that feeling of falling into over/under oxygenation. I reached out and blindly fumbled for the switch to turn the heater off. I rolled over onto my back and then back onto my stomach. The room was spinning. I can't have him mad at me. I can't tolerate it.

Cheers! I thought.

No, stupid... It's after 2:00 on a Wednesday. Cheers is closed.

I've got wine in the house... and Jack, but no mixers.

Don't be dumb. It'll make things worse. You'll call him and leave sobbing, drunk messages that he'll get self-righteous about and you'll be in no position to argue.

But I can't stand this!

Stand it!

I got back up out of bed and paced around again. Then I sat down and wrote him that letter. I don't know what time I fell asleep, but I think it was sometime just after 5:00 am.

Bottom line: Last night was torture.

This morning I woke up with the ringing of the phone. It was Hammer. I was glad she woke me or I might have slept the day away. Besides, it's always a relief to be woken from a nightmarish sleep.

I straightened up my house, wrote a post and sent Narc that "WHAT THE FUCK?" email. Then I sat down to play piano. Masseuse (FightingMensch's most recent girl) was supposed to come over at 1:00 to give me a workout session. She's a personal trainer and is just getting her certification, so she is looking to get some experience. She showed up on time, but I was vocalizing and on the piano and never heard her at the door. I called her at 1:10 to see where she was, but she was gone. I felt terrible. She said she had left me several messages on my cell.

I had been in the living room, and when I went in the bedroom to check my cell, I saw I had a message from Narc. What?!?!

Hey Hyde, it's Narc. It's about 12:45 and as requested, I'm calling you back. I'm awake and alive and alert and all that stuff. So, give me a ring when you like. Alright. Bye

As requested??? How considerate! He must have realized he was in some trouble if he bothered to call back.

NDN had called me and asked me out to lunch to cheer me up. (He treated me, by the way, which was very sweet!) I was on my way over to meet him when I called Narc back.

This was a biggie for me... and I'm scared now about how it will change things, but here it goes:

He answered the phone casually.

"Hey, what's up?" he said.

"Not much." I felt tired and fraudulent.

"I'm just hanging out here watching last night's Idol and eating sushi," he laughed.

"I hope it's good, Narc."

"Yeah. Well, yeah..."

I didn't say anything.

"So.... I got your 'what the fuck' email," he volunteered.

"Oh, you did, did you?"

"Yeah."

"So... well... What the fuck?"

"Hmmm... Well.... I hate to do this, Hyde... I really do... But you know what? I have to plead 'blackout' on this one."

"Narc! You have to be fucking KIDDING me!"

"Yeah... it was a blackout. I mean, it rarely happens for me, but it did. I don't even remember talking to you last night. So... I don't know what to tell you."

"Well I didn't black it out," I said. "And it was bad. You were pretty mean to me."

He didn't say anything, so I went on.

"You were very mean to me, Narc. I mean, besides saying you were coming here and then not showing... You insulted me a lot."

My lips were shaking just to say the words to him. I don't know why it's so hard for me, but it is.

He didn't apologize.

"I don't know what to say, Hyde." He sounded like a robot. "I don't know what you want to hear from me right now."

"I guess I just wish you didn't hate me so much," I said quietly.

He paused for a long time. I held my breath.

"That's just when the demons come out," he said. "It's one of those things... The demons hate a lot of people, Hyde. They hate me too."

"Well, I wish they didn't have to be so terribly mean."

"Yeah, but why'd you pick up the phone, then?"

He was trying to change the tone of the conversation and deflect it away from himself.

"I mean, you shouldn't pick up the phone when I'm like that!"

Oh, so this is all MY fault?

"How was I supposed to know you were in 'demon-mode,' Narc? It was 12:15 on a Wednesday!"


I was in the elevator now. There was so much to say and I had no strength or time or clarity with which to say it. I told him so.

"I need to talk to you, Narc," I said. "But I can't think right now. I can't think of how to say it. There's so much... and I'm muddled, and I--"

"Well, okay, then. Maybe I should get back to Idol."

I couldn't let it go at that.

"No, wait!"

I was in my building lobby now and ducked into the area with the mailboxes.

"I guess, I just want to say this. I don't know why you spend time with me, Narc. I mean... you shouldn't spend time with me if you don't even like me."

There was silence on his end.

"If you don't value me, if you don't like me, then I don't understand--"

"We're having sex, Hyde," he interrupted. "We're having sex and doing all of these 'couple-y' things, but we're NOT a couple. We're not about those things."

I didn't say anything.

"I mean, we are about having sex, I guess, but..."

"But 'what?'" I interrupted. "So, you're having sex with me. But why? Because I have free time and so do you? Because I'm an available warm body? I mean, is there anything about me that means anything to you, or am I just a space filler? Easily replaced by the next thing to come along?"

"I don't know what you want from me, right now," he said. "I don't know what you want me to say."

"I want you to answer my question: DO-I-MEAN-ANYTHING-TO-YOU,-OR-AM-I-WORTHLESS-AND-DISCARDABLE?"

"Hyde, you know I care about your friendship. You know I value you."

"Well, then you could try showing it every once in a while with a kind word or gesture. I mean, I'm talking minimal here, but there hasn't even been that! If you value me at all on any level, then let's see it."

"But, we're not a couple, Hyde."

I know how he thinks. I know the game he's been playing. He's been playing it from the beginning. Do you guys remember when he used to refuse to go to brunch with me, or to a movie with me, or even to a bar? What was his reason? "If we become friends AND are having sex, doesn't that make you my girlfriend?" Well, guess what? We DO those things now AND we're having sex, and it's fucking with his head. His way of dealing-- make it CLEAR I'm not his girlfriend by neglecting and insulting me. I told him I "get it."

"I understand, Narc," I said. "I understand what's going on. We're having sex, but you want to make sure I know we're not a couple... that I'm not you're girlfriend. So you're sending me that message by showing me how little I mean to you, by making me feel worthless, by insulting me. See-- how can I be your girlfriend when I'm so unimportant and undeserving?"

He didn't say anything, so I went on.

"Well, guess what, Narc? That HURTS. It HURTS."

"Hyde..." He sighed. "Maybe we shouldn't be having sex, then, Hyde."

"Maybe we shouldn't."

I could hear in his voice, though, that he didn't want to go there. He didn't want to let go of that. He needs me too, or he wouldn't still be around. He hates me because he's tangled up in this and feels as powerless as I do. We are addicts. It's destroying.

"If you see a relationship as two halves-- friendship and sex-- and I can only have one of the two, I'd rather have emotional kindness and no sex than have sex coupled with emotional cruelty," I said. "I'd rather be your friend than have you put me down and then fuck me."

He didn't say anything. I thought I was going to cry. I could feel my lip trembling and my voice about to break.

"It feels like shit, Narc. It feels like shit."

More silence from him.

"You are treating me poorly on purpose. It HURTS!"

More silence. The tears were welling.

"I mean, put yourself in my shoes for two seconds. I've been having sex with someone for a year and a half--someone who says he's my friend but takes every opportunity to put me down, devalue me and make it clear that I don't matter. IT HURTS!!!!"

He spoke quietly now.

"I can imagine," he said.

I can imagine! I can imagine! He can imagine! He knows what he's doing. He doesn't want to think about it, but he KNOWS! That is the FIRST TIME EVER that Narc has validated my feelings and not made me feel like an irrational hysteric. Thank you!

I didn't answer him.

"So... What do we do?" he asked.

"I don't know." Now that it was out, I suddenly felt very weary. "I guess we can be honest with each other, for a start. I mean, admit that we both know what's going on and be able to talk about things for real. It can't stay like this."

"I don't know..." he sighed. "Maybe we should stop having sex." He sounded defeated too.

"Maybe..."

"Well, um... I better get back to my Idol and sushi now," he said.

Narc-shutdown. End of conversation.

"Okay."

"But, I'll talk to you in a bit, Hyde. I'll talk to you in a little while."

"Yeah... I'm sure," I said. I suddenly felt cynical and (could it be?) angry. "Take care."

And that was that.

After that, I had lunch with NDN and met ThursdayGirl and Masseuse at the movies. It's the first time I had ever seen either of them in daylight.

And now I'm home. And it's Thursday night. And I feel like I want to crawl out of my own skin. But I'm trying not to go drinking tonight. I keep having this image of my brain being pickled...shrunk. Why am I still writing here? Because once I stop writing, I'll have to figure out what to do with myself. I guess I can take care of food for a start. Yes... It's nearly 9:00 pm. Food is a good idea.

Good night to all, and to all a good night.

-h-