It's all about A... who I mentioned a long time ago. She and I had a rather sexual yet cloying relationship for about a week... at which point, A. met Kirsten at The Cure concert and decided to go home with the both of us. (For all the wrong reasons, I think. She wasn't particularly interested in a relationship with Kirsten, but she didn't want to go home alone.)
And, for awhile, everything was blissful. Wreckless abandon in bed that left us all spent, energized, and radiant... never enough sleep, but waking up with her asleep on my chest, breakfast in bed (baguettes with Nutella), trips to San Francisco, spending waaay too much money, but having a great time...
...but as time went on, things with A. became troubled. She would be distant for days, or would come over and be in bed with us, only to start crying, then run away home, angry with herself. She was unwilling to open up, unwilling to let her emotions show... haunted by old relationships and old pain, and the basic truth was that she wanted me as her plaything, but she didn't want to share. I broke things off with her both for this reason, and because she just didn't have any place within the already established relationship... there are other reasons besides, but those two were plenty.
A. has been hurt so much by men in her past; she hates men more vehemently than anyone else I know... and she seems lost in her own pain and hatred and anger. She has screwed up all of her friendships, burnt a lot of her bridges... and Kirsten, being the nice person that she is, tolerates all of A.'s behavior to a far greater extent than anyone else A. knows. Nobody can get A. out of her situation besides herself, though.
Last night, A. called Kirsten up and suggested going to the beach... and that Kirsten should invite Jeff, a friend of A.'s and ours who was fed up with a lot of A.'s behaviour. I was welcome too, of course. I was hesitant at first, but A. turned on the waterworks, so I decided to go. (I love the beach at night, regardless of my feelings towards A.)
The whole trip was about A.'s loneliness... She burns her bridges with people and treats her friends badly, yet she somehow expects them to flock to her side when she needs them... which is entirely too often lately. If she can't get what she wants, she falls into fits of crying and depression. I'm not sure she does this intentionally, but it doesn't matter from my perspective. Once she gets to be with "her friends", she lapses into her old behaviour again.
Fortunately, there was more going on at Ocean Beach than just our little fire, and I felt comfortable with the idea of leaving our little group to actually enjoy myself. People were there from Burning Man... lots of people with fire chains... Brad would have been in awe of some of the moves these people had. Someone must have brought a small generator... they had Christmas lights and were playing Tom Waits, Nick Cave, trip hop on the beach. There were lots of interesting people, bundled for warmth in the fog... and lots of drums... I played taiko for about 15 minutes!
It was a good time for an hour or so... but I felt the need to check back in with Kirsten, Jeff, A... Turns out my timing was right, since the police were just beginning to ticket cars that were parked near the beach after 10. :-/ I would have liked to go back to the party, but at least they are having Burning Man-related activities for the next week or two, so hopefully I will catch one of those.
We went back with A. to San Jose... She dropped off Jeff and then we were back at the house. Kirsten was saying her goodbyes to A. from outside the driver window... and, looking through, I could tell how sad A. was... she was starting to cry... sad about going home alone.
All I know is that at this point, I could care less if I ever see A. again. She lacks the qualities of a good friend, or a good partner, and frankly, she needs to sort her shit out. Time spent with her is, in my opinion, time wasted... emotionally, it interferes with Kirsten and I moving on with our lives and finding a relationship with someone who loves us. I am tired of her antics, her soap opera, but above all, I hate her tears... crying is the most unfair thing she could do, since it reminds me that I still do have a part of myself which cares for her... I'm left feeling guilty for not sharing my self with her anymore... but despite what part of me says, I don't want to go through all of it again, either as her friend or as her lover. Damn her...
"I am the concierge... chez-moi, honey.
Won't letcha in for love, nor money.
My home, my joy.
I'm barred and bolted and I
Won't let you in...
Get out of my house!" -K.B.