Google Maps - the life edition

"Where are you?"

"umm is there a north and a south version of this street?" 

"yes" 

"then I'm pretty sure I'm at the north end."

"do you not know how to use google?" 

"excuse me?" 

"type in the address exactly  as I sent it to you"

"yes I understand, I've been in a car for days and I typed it in quickly." 

"ok well now the space in front of my apartment is gone." 

My body was tensed. My shoulders were hunched. All gut instincts were telling me to keep driving north, fuck it, I'll find another place to stay. But no, I turned the car around and drove south  as I had previously been instructed and so densely overlooked. I was driving to a place that would be a temporary home, a place that had kindly been offered for free (a fact that would constantly be reminded to me) by a man I had once met in an uber. Yes, an uber. In the 5 minute shared ride months ago he seemed funny, interesting, and light hearted. In case anyone is wondering if those things are indicator's of a great roommate I am here to inform you they are not. 

Once I had gotten my directional bearings I arrived and down the stairs he came in white windbreaker pants and a body full of frenetic energy. My knuckles were white from how hard I was clutching the steering wheel. This is okay. This.will.be.okay.  He smiled and seemed genuinely excited to see me. I quickly felt guilty for being so anxious. He helped me unpack my things from my car, in fact he just unpacked them. I started feeling incredibly nauseous and had to lay down (my anxiety had morphed into actual symptoms). His apartment was big, but he was the antithesis of a neat freak. The energy was heavy, full, and manic. I tried to convince myself it was just my aversion to sleeping in new places, that I was creating a story in my head far worse than reality. 

We went to dinner only once. It was our attempt to get to know one another. I reluctantly asked questions. I succintly answered ones asked to me. I could feel myself holding back, pulling away, hiding inside of myself. I wasn't comfortable. I couldn't pinpoint anything particular about him, just him overall. I would stay in that apartment for 3 full weeks. In that time he would lock me out twice (an accident), come in my room once while I was sleeping (I'm still unsure of why this happened), and come in once while I was laying there "oh uhh, you're home?" This solidified my theory that he came into my room when I wasn't there. I had trouble sleeping, I had crazy dreams, by the time I packed my things to leave the biggest emotion I felt was relief. 

I spent the past year living alone and creating a safe space, no one but out of town visitors ever slept over, and only a few local friends even came over. I was militant regarding who entered my space. I knew when I left that I wouldn't get that again for awhile, I knew the past 12 months would have to be enough, I knew that I would have to have roommates and a few unpleasant encounters.  I also knew I could never be fully prepared for what that looked like. My last roommate encounter was with a girl in college who ripped out chunks of her hair while screaming and once cleaned the dishes in a ballgown "just because".  I figured as long as I avoided thin girls with a black bob named after a Silence of the Lambs character (her) I'd be okay.

This guy did not have malicious intent, but he did have expectation. He didn't give for the sake of giving, he gave to get. I'm not sure if he wanted friendship or someone to date, but he wanted something from me. I knew it on that first phone call. Once I sensed it I immediately started shutting down. Our lack of a relationship developing was just as much my fault as his, maybe even more so. Once I realize someone wants something from me, something I know I can't or won't deliver I pull away. I was so afraid he would misinterpret something I said or did that I said nothing and did everything I could to never be there. He once told me he bought me a vegetarian salad and asked me to eat with him. I stood awkwardly in the kitchen moving the food around into funny shapes and trying to avoid eye contact. I felt bad that he was trying and I was making it as difficult as possible. But I was mad at him for the expectation, mad at myself for even being in the situation.  I justified him coming into my room as the fact that I was staying there for free - it was his space, he could do what he want. In 3 weeks I was undoing what I had spent 12 months building. As I stood in his kitchen while he told me we weren't "integrating" like he thought we would I fought the urge to yell "STOP TALKING TO ME AND CLEAN THE FUCKING KITCHEN". It was time to go.

He is trying to fill a void in his life. I knew I couldn't do that, but more importantly I knew I didn't want too. I accept that I will have to take on a roommate in this new phase of life, but I won't allow anyone to take away my safe space.  I like who I am, I like who I've become.  His apartment was a reflection of him, not me. Once I left I was free. He is still there, trapped inside himself and searching to fill a void. I've been there. I understand. Just as I understand I am no longer there.

Nothing in life is free.

Never allow my safe space to be invaded. 

Two valuable lessons....and I didn't even need google maps to get there.