And this is how it starts

On Friday, I went to Friendsgiving. The fun part: just talking with two kids I don’t really know. Kids. (22 and 26).

The trying part: Erica, who is volatile when exposed to oxygen, has to be managed. She planned a Friendsgiving party and got food and then just to forgot to invite anyone. I watched her boil a turkey in the oven, not even haven taken the neck or the *bag* of giblets out, but it’s not my job to save anybody and I’ve been working on that. The food was somewhat edible but I wasn’t there for the food. I’d have nicer things to say, but you’ll see why I find it difficult to be jolly.

The not fun part: this guy named Jesse, who is unredeemable, started off attacking me with five minutes of being there. I’m not exaggerating. He’s called me a bitch five minutes in. And Erica told *me* to stop antagonizing *him*. He was inappropriate with everyone, but it started and continued with him.

He probably came up to my face at least 20 times and called me a bitch or a cunt. I don’t know why I stayed. Maybe to show everyone else that I have a thick skin. But I should have left way earlier than I did because everyone was way too interested in acting like Jesse wasn’t a problem and taking care of the poor soul he brought as a date and who *tried* to leave because he was so terrible, but whom they convinced to stay.

And then around 6 a.m., Erica spun the whole thing to make it seem like she’d been the hero of the night and Maddie and I made ourselves victims of Jesse’s abuse by not standing up to him. She was the *only* one who said *anything* and that is why he *respects* her.

There was so much dysfunction playing out from everyone’s past that it was the ultimate peak of holiday behavior.

I have to do better. I know I did the night before.

Alfie was awful at my party. He started out with texting me over and over just needing attention when I was trying to build furniture and make food.

And then when he finally gets here, he was at my place and he was a bore and a bully and started telling me what was wrong with my bedroom, my apartment, my life. And none of it was true but he wouldn’t know that because he talks when he should listen and he hears what he wants. I didn’t kick him out (even though he wore out his welcome) but I told him the conversation was over.

I’ve been trying to make sense of all this and move in tiny pulses instead of setting the place on fire and walking away from the explosion. Objectively, the guilty parties were big assholes. And objectively, I tried my best to employ all the stuff I’ve been trying to build up as healthy skills.

I just want to be alone for a few days. Friends are easy to come by when you’re an idiot and you *can* sustain a friendship based on a mutual love of Lisa Frank, pink wine and Lizzo.

That ain’t me.

Friends and lovers (the people, not the bar down the street) are harder for me. I’m complicated, to say the least). But I don’t think that means I have to settle for shitty people.

Time to write. Time to replenish all that was depleted. Time to hope the snow will stick and that I have something to eat in the fridge.

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