Well, I boned that...

...and not in the fun way. So I came home from a curious night with Sarge who I haven't seen in years and his new wife (who is a fantastic lady,) and spent some time talking to Roomie. About how I felt about the evening at Sarge's, Roomie and my varying sex drives, the usual style of conversation for us. We were up and talking for a couple of hours if I'm remembering correctly. He was doing his "I'm should go to bed" dance for the last half-hour or so, where he'll say something, go into his room and do some bedtime prep, come back out, say he really should go to bed now, repeat. So what I was ready for was him going to bed. What I was not ready for was him doing the final steps of the dance which is generally the last time I talk to him in an evening, then coming back out of his bedroom to ask if it was alright (or if I would mind, or what I thought, or something like that) if when we have to move out he just rented a room from a friend of his.

And I fucked it up. I actually had my "wait, you're breaking up with me?" type of reaction. I froze up, then started telling him that I'd be fine and he needed to worry about himself; that I wasn't his job, he wasn't responsible for me, etc., in that really passive-aggressive/wounded way that I do when I'm surprised by pain or fear and another person is involved.

Of course, what I said and what I was going through were not the same thing. We've had the "what we're doing after R sells the condo" conversation several times. I thought I had made sure that he still wanted to room together the last time. So I've been unemployed and not filing for unemployment or looking for work because what I felt like I needed the most was just some time to rest and I had money to live off of already. Which is now gone. I was already planning on filing today, but that takes some time to get going. Then he sprung on me this idea of maybe I was going to have to get my own place in two months...

...or maybe he'd buy a house, or maybe we'd get an apartment together, but what he led with was maybe he'd just rent the room so that he could seriously start saving and clear some debt so that he could get a house more easily in the future. I got woken up by my phone at like 6 this morning, so I was up when he was leaving. As he was about out the door I asked him to not make any further plans about the move until I had a chance to talk to him again, in what I'm sure he took as my voice of doom or at least anger. It was actually the most emotionless voice I have, but since I usually have a happy voice it probably didn't come off well. I can't do this right now, so I'm going to ask him to just grab another place with me for 6 months so that I can start rebuilding my savings and have the $ to survive on my own.

I feel stupid. This is the same position I get myself in over and over, assuming that a) things will either continue as they are or as I've planned and b) that my hopes for future events will work out. I never leave myself any kind of cushion for things not going the way I want them to. I also realize that I've been assuming that the world owed me for the shit I've gone through the last 5 years, and letting Roomie (who is even more passive-aggressive than I am) carry me fiscally. He never said anything specifically to me about getting off of my ass, or rather, his ass, so everything must be OK right?

It makes me very sad. If I was rested, I'd feel angry with myself. Why did I feel like doing a similar thing to him that my roommates in Chicago did to me wouldn't lead to the same reaction from him that I had? He doesn't want the things that I can give emotionally, which is why nearly everyone I know is friends with me. I don't know why we're friends honestly other than I love him (platonically) and I'm pretty sure he cares about me. I just don't know why those things are true.

It's times like these that I hate life.