Mitra and I had a bit of a kerfuffle last weekend.
My suite of rooms has three entrances. One is by the front door. One is awkwardly by the cellar door. One is out one of the bathroom doors and through the laundry room/pantry into the kitchen. If the light in the laundry room/pantry is off, to a person in the kitchen I can seem to appear suddenly out of the darkness behind the stacked washer and dryer. Like a troll who lives under a bridge.
When I first got here, angry and shocked and confused, I would pop out a lot while Mitra was cooking. We’ve been talking about dating and relationships for a long time, helping each other process the ups and downs of romance for decades. She was also there the day I was kicked out of the house, and the day when I moved all my things out. That’s how good a friend she is.
Talking over everything with her while she cooked helped keep me sort of sane. I could say “remember when this happened” and she’d say “yes” so I’d know I hadn’t imagined it all.
We laughed about me popping out from behind the washer and dryer, my new troll persona. She’d stay remarkably calm as I popped out with one more thing to say, one more question, one more agony.
She thinks in cartoons, and me poking my head out suddenly was an amusing image perfectly suited for one. We laughed as we discussed how she would draw it, with her usual thumb-shaped people. I was looking forward to seeing it.
Then, on Saturday, she sent it to me, a first draft for approval. There was Thumb-Mitra doing laundry, eating dinner, trying to sleep. And there was Thumb-Jen, popping into each frame, rambling speech bubbles coming out of her mouth.
It didn’t make me laugh. It made me sad. Was I this annoying? Did she really feel like she couldn't escape me? I was hurt. I didn't say anything. I shut down, a bad habit of mine when I get overwhelmed and depressed. I left for the march, hoping that it might make me feel better to be around all those people, all that excitement.
I didn’t. I ended up alone on a bench in the upper reaches of Copley Place.
I wasn't upset because Mitra might find me annoying. Mitra has found me annoying many times over the years. I have found her annoying, too. We’ve known each other for forty years. Sometimes we annoy each other.
It was the reminder that I was a guest, that I don’t really live here. It’s where I ended up when I was kicked out of my home. When I moved into that house in the suburbs, I was wanted. Desperately wanted. I’d say no and he’d say please. He had all these rooms for me to fill with myself.
Mitra likes having me here. She likes coming in to my room to chat in the morning while we drink coffee. She likes that I can discuss the cats with her. But my arrival was sudden and unexpected. She was readying these rooms to rent them out, and that got delayed a bit. I’m not really supposed to be here.
I was supposed to be in that house in the suburbs in those rooms I’d filled up. That’s where all of my friends thought I would be. I’m here with Mitra now because it made her so sad that I had to leave. She loves me. It hurts her that I’m hurt.
Even though I hadn’t told her the cartoon had upset me, she knew. She texted me, knowing the way that I shut down sometimes, asking about it. I texted back, yeah, it hurt my feelings.
She changed it. I approved the new version. We talked about it a lot. We both like to talk a lot. She checked in with me a bunch of times before she finally posted it. You can see the final version here:
CAT VIDEO BELOW
