“There are only two tragedies in life: one is not getting what one wants, and the other is getting it.”
I met Travis about 6 months ago when I started working at a new job. I’ve been serving and bartending for a while now, all over Los Angeles, and even had a brief stint as a bar manager until that place closed down. It was closing before I took over that position – before you start blaming me for destroying someone’s business. But this place was new. It was different. It felt like home right away. There is something very comforting about the space and the food. The entire staff save a few had been there since the place opened years ago. It was like marrying into the best family ever.
I was hired to host and serve weekend brunches. I had experience for a much better position but I had been without a job for so long at that point that I was happy to take whatever came into my lap. My first Sunday morning at the restaurant, I met three people that apparently were destined to change my life forever. Anna, Mike – not my boyfriend, and Travis. The boys were relentless in their flirting. It took them approximately 30 seconds before beginning to lay it on thick. Subtlety has never been Travis’s strong suit. In truth, that first day, it was his friend Mike that I was the most flattered by. I soon found out he had a girlfriend and why was I even thinking about that anyway? I had a boyfriend at home too. Regardless, a friendship was born. They were fun. They were potheads. They were musicians and loved folk & classic rock. We bonded over Creedence Clearwater Revival – it comes on the playlist still every Sunday morning at 11:43am. In the three of them, I saw something special. It felt like I had met soul mates.
I’d been in Los Angeles for a few years and had been struggling to make friends out here. It’s difficult to connect to people here. It’s difficult to find sincerity and simplicity in people. Simplicity is a highly valued trait to me – I don’t require fancy goings on and all nightclub hopping. I don’t need the scene and I’m not sure I’ve ever really fit into it. The first thing I loved about my boyfriend was that he loved dive bars and wearing the same pants every day. Simple. And finally, here I had met more kindred spirits. It wasn’t long before I started spending almost every day with Travis and Anna. Mikey (for difference’s sake) wasn’t around as much since he lives pretty far out in the valley plus he had other jobs and worked full time on his music. Travis and Anna not so busy. I wasn’t so busy either. All I wanted to do was to lounge on the dark red and blue plaid couches in Travis’s apartment, hit the bong and watch some Dave Chappelle. Anna and I made each other laugh and Travis played records and serenaded us while we passed joints. Memories were being made. I fell in love with these people and this new life. It all happened so suddenly.
So I started spending less and less time at home. Mike was in school at UCLA diligently working on his Anthropology degree; he studied every night and still worked full time at a hotel. He just hasn’t been around much. We started fighting a lot. Last fall was rough on us. There were a few big fights. None quite as big as the one we’re in now, but what we lacked in severity we made up for in frequency. He’s been angry at me, angry that I’m not home anymore, angry that I smoke too much weed, angry that I’m out until all hours of the morning, angry that when I get off work at 11pm I don’t want to go to sleep with him, I want to go party with my friends. What’s the difference? Hanging out in my apartment while my boyfriend is asleep is hardly quality time. I may as well be out living the lifestyle I’ve always wanted. I’ve always had a close friend or two, but never a solid group of people. And never a solid group of people that actually wanted to see me every day. Truthfully, I was lonely and this felt like the greatest remedy. Another win for the medicinal properties of marijuana.
I was angry too. I was angry that he studied all the time and never made time for me. Angry that he never wanted to be social. I understand if he doesn’t want to hang out with some new, random potheads; that’s not his bag and I respect that. But we couldn’t find anything that we wanted to do together. He was unwilling to be the man that I met, the man that loves dive bars and drinking in parking lots. He had moved on from that and at some point left me behind. I was angry that I had to make dinner or he would go hungry, or eat hot dogs from 711. I was angry that his idea of doing the dishes was watching Futurama on my laptop, rinsing off the plates and bowls but leaving me all the pots and silverware. I was angry that he had a night every week that we had dinner at his parent’s home in Culver City, but not a night to spend with just me. Excuse me while I go get my kicks somewhere else.
This morning, Mike called me while I was making breakfast at Lizbeth’s apartment. We both cried. We both said this whole thing was stupid. I apologized. I groveled. I begged him to let me come home. He begged me to take care of him and treat him like he deserved and I promised I would. I packed up my weekend bag and went straight home. When he got home there was more hugging and kissing and crying. I swore to never see Travis outside of work anymore. I didn’t mention that I went over to his apartment Saturday night. I promised to not talk to him, to cut off all phone, email and facebook contact. I deleted our friendship.
Mike has left for work now; he should be back sometime around 8 o’clock tonight. I just need to break my promise one more time. I have to tell Travis why I can’t see him. I have to tell him that I chose my boyfriend over my friendship with him. I have to tell him that I wish things could be different.
I feel good about my decision to work things out with my boyfriend. I feel honored, flattered, relieved, overwhelmed, and joyful that Mike even wanted me to come home. But now that he’s gone and I’m looking around at all of our things – our life together – our memories – I feel like something is still missing. And it’s more than that big chunk of wall that’s no longer there. I feel like I relinquished the only good friendship I’ve made in 5 years. I feel like I shouldn’t have to choose between my boyfriend and a social life. I feel a little trapped.
I’m out of the doghouse but I’m still a dog.
