I’ve talked to two people about the situation so far. I’m not the ball of blind, almost uncontrollable rage I was, but I’m still angry and unsettled and I’m still unsure of what to do. I don’t think writing is going to enlighten me or help me find the answers, but I feel like now that all of the anger has been spent I can now become introspective and look at the other emotions that are there.
Thursday I messaged Zane. I wasn’t sure what was going on with the apartment. He hadn’t messaged me about the new person moving in. I wanted to know what was going on, but didn’t know how to ask without sounding demanding or accusatory.
Eventually I found what I wanted to say.
Me: Hey. Just curious if anything has been figured out about the lease. Should I keep time free on Saturday for paperwork?
Zane: Sure. We can go to the office on Saturday.
Me: Is there a specific time that works for you?
Zane: The office is open 10 to 4. Sarah will be over til like 2:30, most likely. But the office is open 10 to 4 so any time within that window would be fine for me.
Me: I can come by around 3.
Zane: That will be fine. Have you figured out what you’re going to do about phones?
Me: I would like to try to switch the account fully to your name and move my phone over to Metro.
Zane: Ok. Figure that out please
Me: Will do.
I was a little miffed by the comment about the phones. But overall I was glad that there was an end date in sight. Saturday the apartment would be done.
Fast forward to today.
I slept pretty well. Slept in actually. I woke up at 6:30. Talked to V for a bit before falling back to sleep, then headed out the door by 10 after I had woken up the second time.
I returned the pair of headphone I had gotten because I still didn’t like them. Went to a different store and got a different style.
I got my car loan switched over to Navy Federal which lowered my interest rate 4%. I got checks ordered because even though I was told they were ordered they weren’t. I deposited my check from work as well since I switched over my direct deposit.
After that I went to Bank of America where I closed out my accounts. All I need to do is call and cancel my credit card and I’m completely done with them.
I was getting hungry so instead of going straight to the Verizon store I stopped at IHOP for food. While I was sitting there I started missing mom and got really sad. I left my waiter a 95% tip because he was running around taking care of so many tables and the other customers were being rude to him. When I was paying for my bill he said thank you as I was leaving. Just a normal thank you. You know… not much thought put into it, more just saying the words because that’s what’s expected, almost said absent-mindedly because it’s more of a habit than an actually thing…
I was ok with that. I didn’t give him a tip because I wanted a thank you.
It took me a bit longer to put my card away, and so I was just starting to walk to the door when I heard him say a sort of awed, heartfelt gracious thank you. I half turned and smiled and said thank you back to him.
I then went to my car and cried because I felt alone and all I wanted was to try to make someone else’s day better. Maybe the rest of his shift would be shitty, but hopefully by the end of it he would be able to look back and remember the one table with the super quiet girl who left him an amazing tip and smile and remember not all customers are douche bags.
After a minor session of crying I still had two-ish hours before meeting with Zane. I didn’t want to do anything further chore wise and I didn’t want to drive back to my room just to have to drive all the way back out to where I was to sign the paperwork.
I decided to send him a message.
Me: Would it be possible to do the lease stuff now?
Me: Because I’m in the area and done with everything I wanted to get done.
Zane: I mean. I guess. Sure. Did you figure out the phone?
Me: Not yet. I don’t have it in me to do more today. If we can’t do the lease now then it’s going to have to wait until next week. I need to go cry.
Zane: Ok. You go cry and we’ll do it next week.
First off… it’s a yes or no question. I shouldn’t have to justify my reason. I admit that’s most likely me being emotionally raw at the time. I had just gotten done crying, and so I kept those feelings to myself.
I stayed in the car for a bit longer, letting the emotions do their thing, then started to drive back to the room. As I was driving I thought about how John and Trevor were signed off of the lease. None of us could make it to the office at the same time, so we all signed the paperwork at the apartment while we were home, and then I took it to the office for everyone.
I messaged Zane again.
Me: Could we sign it separately like with Trevor and John?
Zane: Sure. I guess. Go grab the paper and leave it at the office. I’ll take care of it at my leisure.
Me: I would like to be the one to turn it in since I can get there at almost any point during the week. It could be done by Monday that way.
Zane: As could the phone. It’s fine that you want to be severed financially. Honest. But the phone is part of that. And I’d prefer to have both done in the relative succession of each other for the sake of fairness.
Me: I’m going to the gym to see if that helps. If it does could we still try to do the lease around 2:30 / 3? I have the phones on the list for tomorrow.
The gym didn’t help much but it felt I would at least be able to sign a piece of paper and then be done with the day. At 3pm I sent another message.
Me: Is it cool to come over?
Zane: Can we do this next week?
Me: Is there a reason other than my episode earlier?
Zane: I’m in the middle of critical role and Sarah is burnt like the seven hells.
Me: It’s signing a piece of paper. I can pick it up and bring it to you.
Zane: Not everything has to be done in your schedule. An hour ago you were fine with next week.
Me: We agreed to 3 Originally.
Zane: You can do it and leave it at the office or we can do it next week.
Me: I don’t see why you can’t sign it when you’re not even having to leave the apartment any more. You’re schedule doesn’t permit you do it any other day.
Zane: Next Saturday.
Me: Fine. Enjoy your day.
I was pissed. My “enjoy your day” comment was really “go fuck yourself” inside of my head. I left the gym angry and started heading back to the room when I received a message back.
Zane: I can do it Wednesday.
Me: What time?
Zane: I leave work at 3:30 so I can be home in time to sign it if you lave it at the office.
Me: I want to be there when it’s turned in. I can be there at 4:30
Zane: So. We agreed to 3 originally. Then you asked to come by early and I said fine. Then you said no we can do it next week. I’m not beholden to your schedule, Jen. I’m sorry you don’t trust that I’ll sign this paper. I haven’t done anything to betray your trust. I haven’t lied to you. I haven’t gone back and forth on things so many times that I can’t even recall what I most recently said. I’m not the one between us who fits that description. I can do Wednesday if you leave it at the office or we can do it next week. But if you require proof that I signed the paper, shouldn’t I require proof that you took care of the phones?
Me: Omission of truth is lying. And I can provide proof it you want. I want to either be there or to have proof for peace of mind.
Zane: I’ll send you a pic
Me: I want something official from John (the property manager). You’ll be getting official paperwork from Verizon. You could just as easily sign the paperwork and leave it at the office on Wednesday and I can sign it when I’m able to go over after work.
Zane: I’m trying not to yell at your right now. You keep treating me like I’m this terrible villain. Like I’ve taken everything from you. I have only ever tried to be supportive. I’m sorry you feel hurt. I’m sorry you feel lied to. I’m sorry you feel like I’m untrustworthy. But one lie by omission doesn’t really equate to all the shit you’ve pulled since you left for Vegas. I’m done with this conversation. Do not text me again today. And do not come by. Period.
Me: You used me as a cum rag. Your exact words.
Zane: Jen. Seriously. Fuck off for the day.
Me: And I have every right to come by until I’m off the lease. You want me to not come over get off your ass and sign the paper. I’ll even give you the key back.
Zane: Not legally. No. I’ll call the cops.
Me: Do it. And legally yes. That’s my place of residences according to the lease.
Zane: The last time you were here when I asked you politely not to be, you came in screaming and slamming shit. I don’t want you here today and I definitely don’t want you throwing a violent tantrum in my place of living. If you come by, I will call the cops and have you trespassed. Give it space and we can talk later this week. Cordially and calmly. But I will not be threatened into abiding your schedule.
Me: I’m going to talk to John now.
Zane: You have established yourself as a threat.
Me: And you’re a dick.
Zane: I’m not being lazy. I’m doing other shit. Stay away today.
Me: Watching tv is too much to sign a line.
From there Zane called me and it devolved into a screaming match on the phone with him screaming fuck you at me and me screaming back for him to go fuck himself until he eventually hung up on me.
By then I was at the leasing office. John wasn’t there, but another person was. I explained I had just had a yelling match with my roommate and asked if it would be ok to sit and talk with her about the lease.
I explained how mom had died, and that the agreement with Zane and me was that once he had found a replacement I would be signed off the lease and how that was supposed to have been today. I told her about being told I wasn’t allowed at the apartment and asked if he legally could bar me from the property.
No. He can’t. That’s one of the shitty things about having roommates.
I asked if there was any way to force him to sign the paper.
No. There isn’t. That’s one of the shitty things about having roommates.
So that’s where we’re at. I can’t make him do anything, but he can’t force me to stay away either.
There’s the added complication that he might not be able to sign me off the lease until the new girl is signed on. If Zane doesn’t make 2.5 times the amount required for a rent payment, then I won’t be allowed to be removed. Zane and I would both have to sign the new girl on, then Zane and her would have to sign me off.
I don’t know what to do. Still. Writing didn’t make it better. I knew the longer the text messages went on the more I stooped to his level.
I feel childish. I feel like I should have held it together better and been the matriarch I keep saying that I am. I feel like he’s not going to sign me off the lease.
And I keep having all of these awful thoughts like closing out the Verizon account and leaving him without phone service. Or going to the apartment during the week while he’s at work and unplugging the PlayStation or leaving the controller on so the battery is dead when he gets home just so he knows I’ve been there. Just to prove that I’m allowed to be there until he does something to make it to where I actually am legally trespassing.
I have all of these petty thoughts and there’s a part of me who hopes his day was ruined after he called me because he was so angry and frustrated. Mine actually wasn’t bad afterwards. Talking to the women in the leasing office helped balance me out. It gave me facts and logic, and even though there’s not much I can do, there’s not much he can do either and that makes it at least feel fair.
I spent time with Sir and Em watching Sword Art Online. We have 3 more episodes left in the second season. I’m liking the new story arch so far.
My day wasn’t ruined. But there’s a part of me that hopes his was. That he spent the rest of it seething. And I’m glad that there’s a part of me who feels guilty for those feelings. I don’t want to be a hateful, spiteful person.
I know I went back and forth earlier. I know I was emotional, and so I do feel guilty. I do feel like in some way all of this is my fault. On the other side of the coin… I offered to pick up the paper and bring it to him so he didn’t even have to leave the couch. How hard would it have been to just sign the paper at the time we had originally agreed to?
I’m not going to wish that I had handled the situation better because I know the rage I felt during those messages and on the phone. If we had been standing face to face there would have been blood. That’s a fact. I would not have been able to stand there and not physically do something to him because I was that angry and I’m ashamed to admit that. I’m ashamed that I lost so much control over myself that I wished physical harm on someone. Craved it even. I wanted to hurt him for all of the hurtful things he has done to me, not only over the past two months, for all the things peppered through out our relationship.
With feelings that strong, I’m proud that the worst I said was that he was lazy and a dick and that he could go fuck himself. The worst I did was through a fit and lower myself and my standards of conduct to that of a four-year-old.
I didn’t go to the apartment and sit on the coffee table, blocking his view of the TV. I didn’t do any of the vicious thoughts I had in my head.
I don’t know what’s going to happen now. I wish I did. I wish this were over. I wish I understood why it’s so easy for things to get so fucked up.