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Sometimes I wonder what the point is
Mar. 11th, 2005 09:01 amLast night Scott and I were supposed to go see the University Program Council's free screening of "National Treasure," over at the pub. I wanted to see it while it was in theatres, but I never got the chance. Anyhow, so I was pretty looking forward to going on this "date."
But Scott no-- Scott, the one with NO EXPECTATIONS of me WHATSOEVER decides to blow a gasket (in the most Scott-like fashion, which means being rather quiet, not meeting my gaze, and when I press him for an explanation, he snaps at me) over me meeting him three minutes late. You read right, THREE MINUTES.
I told Grandpa at 6:20 that I needed to leave the house at 7:20 to meet Scott by 7:30. True, 10 minutes isn't a whole lot of time, but 1) we're about 5 minutes from campus, and 2) it doesn't take that long to walk from most points on campus to the library in the center. I figured a few minutes wouldn't bother Scott, and who even knew if he'd be there right at 7:30, anyhow? It wasn't as if I was taking my time or anything, though-- I rushed around to get everything together and ready, going so fast I forgot to shut the computer down last night!
Well, Grandpa dropped me off at Etiwanda near the library-- close, but not near where Scott was meeting me. SO I RAN. Almost the entire way there. I never walked slowly, I power-walked when I had to catch my breath. I was about three seconds short of having an asthma attack, and Scott actually had the NERVE to complain about me being late! By the by, the movie didn't even start until 8pm! WHAT THE HELL!? I didn't beg him to cut class to meet me early, I didn't ask him to do anything! It was all his idea, and then he complains!? He didn't even know where the PUB was until I reminded him!
To make matters worse, we were in one of those semi-arguing (but not really looking/talking to one another) phases, the whole way there. When we finally got there, Scott pretty much said he was going to leave-- and leave ME there by myself, with no way to get home late at night! Now, short of a time when I'm feeling really grumpy and depressed, I would NEVER go to a movie by myself. Not if I had the choice, I mean. I told Scott as much-- if he left, I left, and if I stayed, he stayed. We both ended up staying of course, but things didn't feel 100% resolved-- he was still being quiet and moody, and I was still upset and wondering why the hell he was getting worked up over three damn minutes in the first place.
He said this wasn't the first time it happened, but there has only been ONE time when I have made him late as a result of me not being prepared. 99.9% of the time, I'm a total stickler about punctuality, and I have everything planned and ready to go by the time I need to leave. But the way my brain works is that I prioritize things. Being to class on time is more important than meeting Scott a half hour before the movie we're supposed to see even starts, when the place it's being shown is only a five minute walk away! It's not that I don't love and respect Scott, but WHAT THE HELL!?
I've only been late to class twice:
(1) Journalism class, because the elevator was broken (as far as I can remember).
(2) Ballet class, because Scott and I had to talk things out, and I refuse to leave an argument hanging.
That was why I stayed outside the Pub until I felt Scott and I had resolved things, but I guess not. During the movie, Scott grabbed my hand and kissed it-- even said he was sorry. But I wasn't too much in the mood to hear it I guess, because while I'd told him that he hurt my feelings and I wanted to know why three minutes mattered so much to him, he couldn't tell me anything. He said it would take HIM a while to not be irritated and show it, when normally he's the one always talking about not letting things bothering him, looking at the big picture, relaxing, etc. I admire him for all those things, but is me being around him preventing them from putting them into practice?
So anyway, on the way back to the car last night, I asked him "bot for your thoughts?" (bot is the Thai currency). And he said "just relaxing." Yeah, right. He didn't speak to me for the rest of the way home, or for the rest of the night for that matter. I went upstairs to bed, put my pajamas on, and read for a while, only going downstairs once to get my Egypt books. He never came in to say anything. Not ask me anything, not even say goodnight.
And the one moment he saw me this morning, he didn't say anything either-- he just glanced at me for a second before walking into his room and closing the door. I'm sick of always being the one assuming I'm at fault or that I've done something wrong that merits an apology. I don't have to always be the one going up to him asking what's wrong, what have I done now, etc. I don't want to be! It hurts being separated from him by choice like this, but sometimes he doesn't seem very mature, regardless of the years he's got on me. And it hurts even more when he brings my Grandparents into this by saying something like my grandfather agrees with him over the issue of my not being prepared enough, and how am I going to survive in the real world?
Well gee, thanks. Why not just shoot me after you're done stabbing me in the chest a few hundred times?
EDIT: Okay, so I revise-- he finally did say a few words to me, and those words were "Okay, I'm going to go, all right?" Of course I'm wishing he would say something more, so I just mumble out okay, and he responds in a rather exasperated (maybe not to him, but to me) tone that "Look, I'm sorry that I'm not talking to you, but there are just some things I need to think about. Can you understand that?"
Well gee, yeah, sure, when you're THAT descriptive about whatever it is you're thinking about that entails not speaking to me. NOT! What the hell am I supposed to think now? What the hell has happened? What the fuck is going on? I'm sick of crying over this guy, but...
Why won't the tears stop?
But Scott no-- Scott, the one with NO EXPECTATIONS of me WHATSOEVER decides to blow a gasket (in the most Scott-like fashion, which means being rather quiet, not meeting my gaze, and when I press him for an explanation, he snaps at me) over me meeting him three minutes late. You read right, THREE MINUTES.
I told Grandpa at 6:20 that I needed to leave the house at 7:20 to meet Scott by 7:30. True, 10 minutes isn't a whole lot of time, but 1) we're about 5 minutes from campus, and 2) it doesn't take that long to walk from most points on campus to the library in the center. I figured a few minutes wouldn't bother Scott, and who even knew if he'd be there right at 7:30, anyhow? It wasn't as if I was taking my time or anything, though-- I rushed around to get everything together and ready, going so fast I forgot to shut the computer down last night!
Well, Grandpa dropped me off at Etiwanda near the library-- close, but not near where Scott was meeting me. SO I RAN. Almost the entire way there. I never walked slowly, I power-walked when I had to catch my breath. I was about three seconds short of having an asthma attack, and Scott actually had the NERVE to complain about me being late! By the by, the movie didn't even start until 8pm! WHAT THE HELL!? I didn't beg him to cut class to meet me early, I didn't ask him to do anything! It was all his idea, and then he complains!? He didn't even know where the PUB was until I reminded him!
To make matters worse, we were in one of those semi-arguing (but not really looking/talking to one another) phases, the whole way there. When we finally got there, Scott pretty much said he was going to leave-- and leave ME there by myself, with no way to get home late at night! Now, short of a time when I'm feeling really grumpy and depressed, I would NEVER go to a movie by myself. Not if I had the choice, I mean. I told Scott as much-- if he left, I left, and if I stayed, he stayed. We both ended up staying of course, but things didn't feel 100% resolved-- he was still being quiet and moody, and I was still upset and wondering why the hell he was getting worked up over three damn minutes in the first place.
He said this wasn't the first time it happened, but there has only been ONE time when I have made him late as a result of me not being prepared. 99.9% of the time, I'm a total stickler about punctuality, and I have everything planned and ready to go by the time I need to leave. But the way my brain works is that I prioritize things. Being to class on time is more important than meeting Scott a half hour before the movie we're supposed to see even starts, when the place it's being shown is only a five minute walk away! It's not that I don't love and respect Scott, but WHAT THE HELL!?
I've only been late to class twice:
(1) Journalism class, because the elevator was broken (as far as I can remember).
(2) Ballet class, because Scott and I had to talk things out, and I refuse to leave an argument hanging.
That was why I stayed outside the Pub until I felt Scott and I had resolved things, but I guess not. During the movie, Scott grabbed my hand and kissed it-- even said he was sorry. But I wasn't too much in the mood to hear it I guess, because while I'd told him that he hurt my feelings and I wanted to know why three minutes mattered so much to him, he couldn't tell me anything. He said it would take HIM a while to not be irritated and show it, when normally he's the one always talking about not letting things bothering him, looking at the big picture, relaxing, etc. I admire him for all those things, but is me being around him preventing them from putting them into practice?
So anyway, on the way back to the car last night, I asked him "bot for your thoughts?" (bot is the Thai currency). And he said "just relaxing." Yeah, right. He didn't speak to me for the rest of the way home, or for the rest of the night for that matter. I went upstairs to bed, put my pajamas on, and read for a while, only going downstairs once to get my Egypt books. He never came in to say anything. Not ask me anything, not even say goodnight.
And the one moment he saw me this morning, he didn't say anything either-- he just glanced at me for a second before walking into his room and closing the door. I'm sick of always being the one assuming I'm at fault or that I've done something wrong that merits an apology. I don't have to always be the one going up to him asking what's wrong, what have I done now, etc. I don't want to be! It hurts being separated from him by choice like this, but sometimes he doesn't seem very mature, regardless of the years he's got on me. And it hurts even more when he brings my Grandparents into this by saying something like my grandfather agrees with him over the issue of my not being prepared enough, and how am I going to survive in the real world?
Well gee, thanks. Why not just shoot me after you're done stabbing me in the chest a few hundred times?
EDIT: Okay, so I revise-- he finally did say a few words to me, and those words were "Okay, I'm going to go, all right?" Of course I'm wishing he would say something more, so I just mumble out okay, and he responds in a rather exasperated (maybe not to him, but to me) tone that "Look, I'm sorry that I'm not talking to you, but there are just some things I need to think about. Can you understand that?"
Well gee, yeah, sure, when you're THAT descriptive about whatever it is you're thinking about that entails not speaking to me. NOT! What the hell am I supposed to think now? What the hell has happened? What the fuck is going on? I'm sick of crying over this guy, but...
Why won't the tears stop?
