April 24, 2010

J. left today. I am nearly 5 months pregnant.

The day started out well enough. He woke up earlier than I expected—about 9:00—and told me he was going to the new skate park and that he would leave around 12:00. But by 1:30 he still wasn't home and I was beginning to get irritated. I have told him over and over that he can't just use this apartment as a place to sleep, because I feel like I'm living alone. And on this particular day he had already planned to go out of town in the evening—for the second time this week.

By the time he came home at almost 2:00 I was a bit upset. I knew there was only a week left before he would move away permanently, and we still hadn't talked about what would happen then. I was having dizzy spells (common these days due to low blood pressure during this part of the pregnancy), and I was trying to cook lunch while only being able to stand for one minute increments. He walked in and asked me how I was. I told him I was dizzy and not feeling very well, and he said, “Oh no, is there anything I can get you?” I said,” How can you get me anything? You're never here.” I walked away and sat on the couch. I told him we needed to talk, that I needed to know what I could expect from him after he left.

“What do you mean?” he said.

“You're leaving in a week.” He nodded. I said, “Then it's time for us to have this conversation.”

I said I was worried about what was going to happen. I said that with the pregnancy, this sleep disorder of mine for which I can no longer take medication, school, and the responsibilities of somehow bringing in an income, I didn't know how I was going to handle it. To make matters worse I am supposed to start a research position soon or I can kiss graduate school goodbye. I'm exhausted, I don't feel well, and every night that I don't get REM sleep I feel worse. I told him I had no idea what I would do when the baby was born. Things were going to be very difficult for me.

Talking about this upset me, and I cried for about two seconds, but I wiped my eyes and regained my calm.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked.

I said, “I just want to know what you are going to do.”

“I'm not going to disappear.”

“But what can I expect from you?”

“What do you mean? What should I do? Stay in close touch?” he suggested, “Come up for the birth?”

I didn't really know what to say. None of this was enough, not nearly enough. I explained that after the baby was born I was going to need help in one way or another. I could stay home and take care of him, or I could go out and get money to take care of him, but it simply wasn't physically possible for me to do both. I can finish the last part of my degree online so that I can stay home, but there is still the research position, and that means child care costs. I told J. that I didn't think I would be able to handle both the day-to-day tasks of child-rearing and the expenses associated with it. Sooner or later I would need help with one or the other. He didn't seem happy with this, but he didn't say anything.

I said, “I'm sorry you don't want this, but I cannot absolve you of all of your responsibilities to your child. It's not in my power, even if I thought it was right, which I don't.”

Finally he told me that he understood, and that he could help me out financially in a limited manner. It was obviously just something to say. I knew full well that any attempt to get money out of him for any reason would be like pulling teeth. But I had said what I had wanted to say, and so I let him hug me and we sat together on the couch for a minute. Then he went to clean up the kitchen from my lunch, which was his way of showing me he was contributing.

A moment later he told me he was planning on leaving to go out of town at 3:00. It was just after 2:00, and he had been home for a total of 30 minutes the whole day. I said, “You told me you were leaving tonight.” He said he had been planning to but that the plan had changed.

I said, “J., this is the last weekend you're going to be here, and now you want to spend all of it out of town. I can't do things this way. I need you to stay until tonight like you planned. We've talked about this over and over.”

I was referring to the numerous conversations we had had where I had told him I didn't want to feel like I was living alone. I am in the middle of a difficult pregnancy, I have no family in town, and for the first time in my life I feel like I really need someone to just be here. The first few months of the pregnancy were horrible. J. and I lived together, but I never saw him. He would be out all night and sleep all day, and when he finally woke up he would go directly to his friend's house. We might run across each other for 5 minutes in the afternoons. I would be at school all day and take the bus home, and then I would go upstairs and throw up. I was always sick, and I needed things from the pharmacy and the grocery store that I could not get. I would spend all day in my room alone trying not to be depressed, but it was hard.

Finally a little over a month ago, I kicked him out. The last straw was when he took me to a doctor's appointment (for the first time) and was aggravated that I wouldn't let him wait in the car like a cab driver. He fell asleep in the waiting room, didn't say two words to me, and walked five steps behind me through the halls like we were not even together. When we got home I told him to move out. I said that I was tired of him treating my home like a flop house and acting like nothing I was going through had anything to do with him. I said that I was capable of dealing with this pregnancy without him if I had to, but if that was the way it was going to be then I didn't want any pretense about it. I would rather he just go. What's more, with him gone I could find someone else to move in who might actually live in the house—rather than just sleep here—so I wouldn't have to be alone all the time.

He left, but the next day he asked if he could drive me home from school. When we got to the house he started crying, and he begged me to let him come back. So I did, with the understanding that things would change. And they did, somewhat, but somehow we still always ended up having the same conversation.

This afternoon I was just thoroughly sick of it. I didn't feel well, I was having the cramping and uterine pressure again such that walking even so far as the kitchen to get water felt like a bad idea, and I wanted him to spend at least a small part of his time at home so that maybe we could come to an understanding about the future. I didn't want things to end badly. But he wanted no part of it. He finished what he was doing in the kitchen and stomped over to the living room, sitting down on the carpet, hard.

“When can I leave?” he sneered.

This obviously wasn't what I wanted. I tried to make him understand. “J., you know we have talked about this before. I don't want to be constantly alone right now. You wanted to stay, but you're still never here.”

“So how long would it take you to replace me?”

So this then. “Replace you?”

“Find someone else to move in.”

I sighed. “I don't know. A month ago I had a friend looking for an apartment, but not anymore. I have an ad in the newspaper. I'm still looking for someone.”

He didn't say anything.

“So you want to leave now, then,” I said.

“Are you going to attack me if I do?”

“Attack you?” I raised my eyebrows.

“Not physically,” he said. “In some other way.”

He meant would I take him to court for child support. I had told him I didn't want to have to do that—that I would prefer we keep things amicable and not become enemies—but I suspected that the fear I would change my mind was the main reason he did anything I asked him at all. But I certainly wasn't going to threaten him to make him stay.

“I'm not going to attack you,” I said. “I am going to do what I think is right, and you should do the same. If you want to leave now, I'm not going to stop you.”

So he went to his room and packed his things. It didn't take him long, since he has been preparing to leave for some time now. I was lying on the couch facing away from the hallway, so we couldn't see each other as he took his things out the front door. I guess he could see my feet. I heard him come back in and get another load, and I stayed where I was. I didn't know how many loads there would be. I thought at least he would come and say goodbye when he was finished, but he did not. I got up and went to the window and saw he was gone.

I have cried a few times since then. I was prepared for him to leave next week, but not now. I wanted closure. There are things I would have liked to say, and things I would like to have done once more with him. Watched Dexter together, laughed about a book. I wish I could have held him and told him everything would be alright if we let it, that I didn't want to be enemies. I would have liked to say goodbye.