The Land of Make-Believe

I, unblessed Atlas!
I carry a world, the entire world of pain,
I bear the unbearable,
And the heart within me wants to break.

Proud heart, you have wanted it thus!
You wanted to be happy, eternally happy,
Or eternally miserable, you proud heart,
And now you are miserable.

This has been such a strange week. My mood just can't settle in any one place. But I think I've decidedly reached two conclusions-- I am so grateful to have AA, and Narc really is an asshole.

(So why can't I act on that information?).

On Saturday night I went to a meeting with Pixie and we went out to eat afterwards at the Saigon Grill on University with a few guys from program. Pixie and her date left the dinner early because they were going to see a former student of hers in some theater company. When I parted ways with the gentlemen, I walked to the East Village and got my tattoo. I was on a pain-high and loved that my wrist was stinging and burning.

Later that night, once back at home, I got a call from Narc. He has basically called me to come over every night this past week, although it hasn't always worked out. On Saturday he was moody. I asked him if he loved anyone in the whole world.

"No," he said.

"Do you hate anyone?"

"No. I know it's an emotionally numb existence, but whatever... Maybe that's why I'm so cynical."

For some reason, all of it disgusted me.

"That's sad, Narc," I said.

"Yeah, well we can't all be as lucky as you Hyde-- we don't all have a loving family."

"Well, what do you think about if you don't love anyone?" I asked.

I love the way he makes it seem as if I have a completely problem-free ideal life!

"I think about my characters... and how much they love each other."

I wasn't expecting that answer.

Anyway, not much else happened that night except for the fact that while "falling asleep" with Narc inside of me, he called me by his friend Laurie's name, whispering it. I didn't say anything and pretended not to hear. He then repeated himself. I still didn't say anything.

"Didn't you hear me?" he blurted out, suddenly breaking the silence.

"No. What did you say?"

"I called you Laurie!" he started laughing.

"Why would you do that?"

"You just sighed like her."

"It's not funny," I said, pushing him away.

"I guess I'm the only one who gets the joke," he laughed again.

I felt gross though. The whole thing was gross and not funny at all.

So... that was Saturday night.

On Sunday morning we were both up and out relatively early, as Narc had planned to go sailing with the very same Laurie. I was grateful to have a motivation to get out of there. I really had a lot to do that day.

So, I went back home and tried not to think about any of it, and instead spent the afternoon grading papers, chatting for a short while with NDN and eventually heading down to AA.

After the meeting, I went for dinner with a few of the ladies to Souen-- a macrobiotic place near Union Square. I was wary of the concept of macrobiotic food (as I am wary of healthy things in general), but the food was actually really good. Pixie's meal came inside a bonafide pumpkin!

Narc had texted me after the meeting that he was "off the boat" and that I should come down.

Won't be free until 10:30. That ok? I replied.

He said that he thought he may be asleep by then.

I called him when I was done with dinner, but he didn't answer. So, I went home to sit in my own anxiety and eventually went to sleep just after midnight.

At about 5:30 in the morning, I got two texts from Narc followed by a 6:00 AM phone call. He said he had woken up and "couldn't fall back asleep" and that he wanted me to "come down as soon as I woke up," but he sounded so drunk that I could barely make out some of what he was saying.

Why am I doing this?

And that was Sunday...

Yesterday I tried to eat a bite of Chinese food for lunch, but couldn't digest it and felt sick for most of the rest of the day. Even so, I managed to plow through the remainder of the exams I had to grade. Narc finally called me at around 4:00 PM and said he had just woken up. I told him I couldn't be there to see him until after AA, but that I could come at 9:00 PM. We agreed on the plan and then had phone sex and then I did the last of my grading.

After AA, as scheduled, I headed to Tribeca. I was running a little early, as I got out of the meeting without too much dallying.

At 8:18, on my way down, I sent him a text that I was coming.

He didn't answer.

So, I arrived in his lobby at about 8:45 PM.

He wasn't home.

I sent him another text and called him.

He didn't pick up.

I sat down in his lobby, a lump in my throat, unsure of what to do. About 10 minutes later, he called me back.

"What? You're in my lobby?? Hyde, I thought you said 9:30! I'm out for dinner with the Exhibitionist, and we're just starting."

"I said 9:00, Narc."

"Well, I don't know what to tell you... I'm here catching up with the Exhibitionist and then I was going to meet James... Why don't you go home and I'll just come by your place later."

Clearly, he had double booked and planned on just blowing me off until he was done with his other friends.

"Because I spent $20 to get here, I'm carrying a 20 lb backpack and I don't want to spend $20 to get home! Besides, we had a plan... If you thought 9:30 and you'll be back here at 9:30, I'll just wait. It's only 45 minutes."

"I don't want you waiting in my lobby."

"Why? What's the big deal?"

"I just don't like the feeling. I don't know when I'm going to be done tonight. Why don't you just go home and I'll call you later?"

(Knowing Narc, that would be at 3:00 AM and drunk.)

"Well, I don't want to go back to my place and be indefinitely waiting for you either," I said. "I still have to eat. If it'll make you feel better, I'll go get a bite somewhere in your neighborhood while I'm waiting and you'll probably make it back here before me."

"Well, I don't know, Hyde..."

"Didn't we make plans?"

"Yeah, but, I don't want to cut things short."

"That's not my fault, Narc. Look-- I'll go eat, and let's just meet up as soon as you're done, OK?"

So, I took my enormous backpack, swallowed past the lump in my throat and wandered over to West Broadway. I couldn't find a diner. Damn Tribeca! Only atmospheric, overpriced places. I eventually chose one and took a seat at the bar. I was miserable.

I ordered a quesadilla, wrote in my journal and stared at my glum (but slightly mysterious) reflection in the mirror behind the bar. The waiter kept asking me if I were okay. I felt myself spiraling into a well of self-inflicted, aestheticized misery. I loved that it was cold outside. I loved looking at my own silver eyes.

But as I ate and wrote, I just couldn't shake the feeling that I am so undervalued in this relationship and I couldn't shake the reality that it is I who am "undervaluing" myself.

What am I worth in this world? What am I worth TO this world? I wondered.

At 9:19 PM he sent me a text: Wrapping up, final glass of wine. Give me 30 min or so to get back home.

I still felt miserable, but I decided that it was my choice to feel otherwise. So, I tried to write something nice.

At --- on W Broadway, I said. Didn't mean to stress you. Just bad planing, I guess...

I ate slowly. I drew it out over 40 minutes. I stared at a candle on the bar. The flame was whipping itself around. I comforted myself with the eternity of fire and knowledge of my own humanity. I tried to find some God-consciousness. Fire. Flame. Fire in every civilization. I tried to imagine fires blazing near prehistoric caves, on medieval candlesticks. I felt human because of that candle flame. I think it's the only thing that kept me from disappearing into the ether. But, I hadn't heard from Narc, so I decided to write to him at nearly 10:00 PM: Going back to your lobby. Will meet you there...

Fifteen minutes later, I got another text: Heading down in 5 min.

I couldn't believe that he hadn't left the restaurant yet! Even if we had mis-communicated and he thought he was supposed to meet me at 9:30, this was now 45 minutes after that! I was furious, but immobilized. I settled down in the lobby, reading some article about the German Wehrmacht. I couldn't focus.

"Are you sure he's coming back tonight?" the doorman called out to me from the desk across the lobby. "He sometimes comes back early in the morning."

"I don't know," I sighed.

Why didn't I leave??

I sent him a text: I'm leaving at 10:30. Hope to see you before then.

He called me just at 10:30.

"Just packed the Exhibitionist into a cab," he said. "I'm on my way back. Are you still there??"

"I'm packing up my bag," I said flatly.

I felt dead. If this really were just a misunderstanding, it would be one thing. But it's more than that-- Narc doesn't respect me, doesn't value my time and doesn't value me in general. And it hurt. And I've been feeling a sort of general disgust with him lately, so it covered everything in a sort of weariness from which I simply couldn't emerge.

Narc started to go on and on, making a million and one excuses about how his phone was on low battery so he had to turn it off and didn't get my messages, about how I was supposed to call before I came down.

"I did text you."

He just can't be responsible for anything.

"It's simple, Narc. You double booked," I said. "And there's no point in talking about it past that."

I couldn't say another word anyway. I had been struck dumb.

When he got back, he stood in the lobby and looked at me spread out on the sofa, covered in articles, my coat, a box for the leftover quesadilla, my backpack, my purse...

"I told you, you shouldn't have been waiting here in the lobby!" he said, awkwardly.

I didn't answer. I just gathered my stuff and followed him into the elevator.

Up in his apartment, I felt like I wanted to die. I wanted to die. I wanted to die. I sent myself a text message.

I want to die, it said.

"Do you mind if I smoke?" I said.

"Nah, go ahead."

I reclined on the sofa near the window, the ashtray resting on my stomach and proceeded to chain smoke five cigarettes. They were strong-- Marlboro reds. I let the plumes of smoke float up into my eyes and settle in my hair. My mouth tasted like an ashtray. My fingers smelled sweet like that old yellow tobacco smell.

"Are you just going to lay there and chain smoke all night?" Narc asked, still awkwardly.

"I want a drink," I said.

"No you don't, Hyde. It's not worth it."

"I just want a mood alteration, I guess. I'm sorry... just give me a few more minutes."

I seriously couldn't have a conversation just then. I felt a storm in my chest-- as if I would vomit my emotions if I didn't lay perfectly still.

Narc was going on and on about something, but I could hardly listen-- something about the Exhibitionist's roommate being sentenced to a year of jail for raping his fiancee.

I couldn't smoke another cigarette. My throat and tongue were burning. I was staring at the curling paper on the tip of that last cigarette. I was staring at its red hot center. I wanted to die.

"That'll kill you," he said.

"I don't really smoke," I answered.

"Well, I've got the coolest thing ever. You've got to check this out," he said smiling at me. "Come over here."

"What is it?"

I slowly turned my eyes to where he was sitting on the couch across the room.

"It's Zelda on the Nintendo DS! James lent it to me. Come play."

I walked over to where he was sitting and plopped down beside him.

"Are you going to be like this all night?" he asked.

"I'm sorry, I'm just in a mood."

"Well, I hope you get out of it!" he said. "It's not a big deal, Hyde! I was just having dinner with the Exhibitionist and when you said you were out eating, I figured could take my time with it."

"You said you'd be back in 30 minutes though."

"Yeah, but I figured you were fine because you went out."

"Whatever, Narc... I'm not attacking you. I'm just not feeling great. I was waiting for you for two hours. You'd be frustrated too."

"No. My friends always blow me off. You can't get upset about stuff like that."

"Aren't I entitled to my feelings?"

"Yeah, but it's a waste. It's a waste of energy for you to be upset about this."

"Oh, so my feelings just aren't valid?"

"They are, but..."

"Just get over it?"

"Yeah. God, maybe you do need a drink!"

I didn't answer.

"I'm sorry, Hyde-- that wasn't right of me to say."

I felt like I was going to cry, but I didn't. I was surprised he apologized for that. All I wanted was an "I'm sorry I left you waiting," but that apology was not forthcoming. All I got were justifications.

"So... Zelda?"

"You do it all with a stylus," he said.

He showed me the basics and I went to it. I did feel better. It was fun. I put my head on his shoulder. We tried to solve some block puzzle. I was slowly coming back into the world of "make-believe." I was slowly beginning to think everything was normal.

We played Zelda until the battery suddenly died. Then we watched some Joseph Campbell show on DVD. At 2:00 AM, we headed to bed. Narc wanted to watch the last episode of Californication, but I insisted on sleep.

"I have to wake up in five hours!" I said.

We had sex in bed, and it was fucked up in my head. I got off on the fact that he left me waiting all night. Sick, sick, sicko... Sick because it hurt.

"I'm sorry I was moody before," I whispered.

"I'm sorry that I left you waiting," he said. "But I really thought you were going to come later and I couldn't get away from the Exhibitionist. Not that I wanted to get away from her, she's great... but, you know... I thought you were all cool at the cafe, reading and that I didn't have to hurry back..."

(This was not an apology, but I didn't say anything. I just buried my face.)

This morning, waking up was a bitch. But, I managed to get myself up and out and taught two classes on the "Renaissance," which I kind of hate as a concept, but teach it anyway. (I wrote a whole paper about constructions of the Renaissance in the 19th century, so it's hard to present that particular construct as fact.) Anyway, I'm home now. I need a rest. I need some food... some nourishment.

I think Narc is after some new girl-- that bartender. I think I already mentioned her. I need to give her a blog name. I'll call her "Frenchie." He talks about her a lot. It reminds me of how he used to be in the early days of PopStar. I hope I'm wrong. In any case, I don't have another round of that in me. I'm tempted to just ask him flat out and if I'm right and he's pursuing her, I might just take my walking papers and go...

I'd welcome him if he were really here, but he's not, and the denial is exhausting. I am so fucking exhausted.

I am Atlas, holding this world of make-believe on my shoulders. It's breaking my back.

love,
h

Ich unglücksel'ger Atlas! Eine Welt,
Die ganze Welt der Schmerzen muß ich tragen,
Ich trage Unerträgliches, und brechen
Will mir das Herz im Leibe.

Du stolzes Herz, du hast es ja gewollt!
Du wolltest glücklich sein, unendlich glücklich,
Oder unendlich elend, stolzes Herz,
Und jetzo bist du elend.