It was four hours into the new year. I was crossing the Richmond bridge in maleficent rain. The world occurred to be flooding; the rare vehicle appearing out of the darkness was also blindly navigating this post-apocalyptic water world. It wasn't the pounding sheets of wet weather that kept me wide-eyed and occupied at this late (or early to some) hour. Replaying my memory - the one that has forced me to drive through three counties at 4:18am - I had been indulging in feelings that I've been saving in a tightly wounded ball under my sternum. I was finally fucking angry - and I wanted the world to know.
An hour earlier, I was being stirred awake by a male voice telling me he wanted to sleep. I was confused; this wasn't Elizabeth who was sleeping beside me in Keli's bed. A second later, I recognized Mihai's voice. Groggy and agitated, I slowly sat up. He stood awkwardly in the doorway. Elizabeth coughed violently at the edge of the bed. She had been sick, hence our quiet New Year's evening. The lights had been left on and my eyes could barely open to the brightness. My agitation heightened with my vision. My thoughts bended towards self-victimizing - and the blame was quick: How dare Mihai just kick me/us out of bed!? My body went numb with anger. Has he no decency? No sense of family and consideration and most of all - Love?! The loss of physical feeling kept me glued onto the bed. Elizabeth's voice then rang out sharp, "will you please leave the room so we can get out of bed?" That jerked me out of my internal rage. She was angry, too, and not afraid to show it. Mihai left the room without a word. She faced me, her eyes furrowed in fury. What a jerk! we agreed with our nonverbal communication. A couple of minutes later, we were outside on slick SOMA sidewalk ducking under overhangs to get to my car. The last image I had as I left was Mihai closing Keli's door on us the moment we cleared the space. Pure indignation I felt.
In the car, Elizabeth confided a moment she had with Mihai when they were shuffling in the hallway. She had spat in his face, "you self-entitled prick." Through the San Francisco city streets of late night drinkers and celebrators, we fumed heavily about what happened. We couldn't believe that a supposed friend would do something like that, especially a peer in a community that recently expressed the want for individuals to become closer. I dropped her off at home and mapped out my course to Kensington. We were still shaking with anger.
I took Park Presidio to the Golden Gate Bridge. I breathed deeper, even as the rain barricaded my car even more furiously and my back tightened in anxiety. I dropped into understanding the situation - something I did so often with forced willingness that I usually never reacted or felt anger as I had just did. He had asked Keli for her bedroom, and therefore he felt like he had a right to it. He may have felt bad, but wanted to assert his boundaries for the bed. Okay. That still doesn't feel good. My judgments kicked in. I'm glad he asserted his boundaries - but does he even care? Is he even human - with a heart? I thought of something Dara once wrote to me. He was learning how to establish his boundaries "without the use of heavy weaponry." This has been a lifelong challenge for him; we worked on it in relationship together when I was 19. We can't walk around with walls holding ourselves in with cannons and spikes poking out, we had agreed. At least if we wanted to open ourselves to true love, intimacy, and deeper connection. There is no real friendship and closeness and family in tank driving.
At this point, I sank deeper into my sullenness. I am forced to believe that Mihai doesn't want to be closer to me. I can accept this as a consequence of his actions. I explored self-accountability - something that had been on my mind during this entire trial. If I was self-accountable for tonight, I should have talked to Keli about staying at the annex. Wait. She knows I stay there - it's the closest thing I have to home right now, and my belongings are there. Should I have been more aware that Mihai was staying there? Should I have been more proactive in protecting my own boundaries - had said something to Keli about my situation, which I wasn't clear that she had full knowledge of?
My thoughts flowed towards Keli... there was residue resentment towards her. She could have considered me when allowing Mihai staying here, but that's not her job. She mentioned that he was leading workshops and I marked down when to avoid the annex. Out of anyone, she preached self-accountability, although it would be nice that she thought of me, ever. I found my can of worms with Keli and my hands tightened on the steering wheel. But she doesn't think of me. Unless I was available to help her, like moving out Mihai's shit or taking her to pick up her sister from the airport. I was always happy to help her out, not because I felt that there needed be an exchange of resources, but simply because I love her and I want to be closer to her, be Family. And I know that Keli preaches building Family - she openly wants that too. In that respect, she has made gestures to make me feel welcome in the space, and I found her loving as a sister. This wasn't always the case.
The week prior she had asked me to borrow my car to pick up her sister. It was Christmastime that I was getting my tires replaced so that Mojica could drive my car to L.A. I tried to figure out the exact time she needed my car as to make it work. On the day that her sister was flying in, I was emotionally upset, releasing the stress of having no money and no home. Mojica was drained: Christmas was here and he was busy preparing for L.A. I attempted to contact Keli repeatedly that day. She answered sparingly and her answers weren't concise enough for me to understand what she wanted. Despite this, we were able to make enough plans; and Mojica and I stirred up the willingness to meet her at the annex. We drove to the airport, picked up her sister, and found a place that served food late night Christmas Eve. I was worried about Mojica, who was tired and had to drive to L.A. the next morning, but he gives so willingly and I've always trust him to say 'no.' We had a good time, and laughed, and everyone went home content.
On Christmas Day, I found out that Keli was at the movies with a group of our mutual friends. A rock sat in my throat, and from jealousy, exclusion, a whirlwind of hurt, I expressed my upset to her, to which she deflected with the belief that I wouldn't have been interested or was busy. I think in truth, she simply had forgotten about me, but didn't admit to it. It wasn't until I was reflecting with Mojica later that I discovered that she had related to me in using my resources, but didn't care about me to invite me to a movie with our friends. The pain of that sort of exclusion made me feel like I didn't want to be her friend, that she wasn't practicing being closer to me, even though I had gone out of my way to be closer to her. In this situation, self-accountability meant that I wasn't good enough for her to think of me as a friend in order to be invited to the movies. That doesn't feel good. Of course, I didn't know if this was true; I had to connect with Keli and clear with her on how I've felt.
Mojica processed with me. He observed about the distance he felt from members in community, [in paraphrase]:
So I invite them over to my home. I sit them down to my table and I prepare them dinner. I give them their servings, and invite them to eat. They taste my food, make a face, and exclaim, "What is this? Why am I eating this?" in disgust/disdain. So in giving with my heart open, not only am I not appreciated, but attacked for what it is that I do out of love.
This made me feel terrible. I stifled a sob as I cleared the Richmond bridge. There isn't always support in giving or loving. This is the sad truth I was approaching - the vulnerability of it all. I thought of Mojica's courage. He had once said that he gave freely, even in knowledge that he was being taken advantage of, and completely because he loves and cares. I created a scenario. Even if Keli didn't think of me as a friend, if she was in need tomorrow, I would still support her. Because I love her.
In that moment, I received a text from Elizabeth.
I should've made you stay here. I forgot who I was dealing with - that it's a trick for you to ask. My apologies, darlin'.
I began sobbing openly, driving half past 4am on New Year's in a torrid storm. She cared enough to Know me, self-accountability or no. She reached out continuously, even since the beginning of our relationship. I understood. I would still love with my heart open, despite the hurt. I would still do what felt right, walls down, weaponry set aside. I was suddenly grateful. The anger that I had been experiencing was my own discernment of actions done to me that was Not Okay. I can now see the Not Okay! My boundaries! I was learning, Growing, and taking care of myself. I felt the distinctions of who felt like family, such as Mojica and Elizabeth, those who gave in pure love and care for one another, without need for fairness, measurements in resources, self-accountability. And that is Family. My Family.
As I'm writing this, I'm breaking down. This transition - finding the Ground in Myself - God, has this never been true before? Have I been so interwoven in my family dynamics that I have never truly Wanted or Thought or Cared for myself before?
I am grateful for this new year. I am grateful for family.
"in 2011 I want to be stable in a job, with a space of my own, actively seeking family, taking care of my heart and body, have the courage to reach out to people when I want to, and discerning what is best for me"
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