Monday, February 15, 2016

Kinsley: Good Enough

Once I started talking, I couldn't stop.  Lauren, who had started off leaning against the kitchen doorframe, sat down heavily in the armchair in the corner after a couple minutes.  She listened silently as I verbally vomited the events of the last few weeks at her.

When I was done, Lauren pursed her lips and just looked at me for several seconds.  I looked away and pulled my knees up to my chest, bracing myself for the verbal smackdown I was sure I was about to receive.  Finally, she surprised me by saying, "When are you going to stop feeling like you're not good enough for him?"

My head snapped up and I stared at her.  She met my gaze and stared back.  "What are you talking about?" I asked.

"Kinsley, come on," Lauren said.  "Look, I don't know enough about pre-college Kinsley to know if something has happened that's made you have this weird inferiority complex that I think you have.  But I know self-sabotage when I see it, and you are guilty."

I narrowed my eyes.  "You think I'm trying to fuck up my relationship?"

"No," she replied, shaking her head.  "I don't think you're trying to fuck up your relationship.  I don't think you're aware of it.  But I think that on some level, you feel guilty about something, or like Damien is better than you and you don't deserve him.  In turn, you're doing stupid shit to confirm that belief and force him to break up with you, which will further confirm it."

I looked at her skeptically.  "I didn't realize you were fucking Freud," I muttered.

"Listen to me," Lauren persisted.  "What did you do when you guys broke up?  You went out and made a bunch of questionable decisions.  You might argue that you'd have done all those things before you started dating Damien, and maybe you would have.  But you wouldn't have done them all in as short of a time period."

"I fail to see how that has anything to do with me feeling like I'm not good enough for Damien," I said, crossing my arms.

Lauren thought for a minute.  "Okay.  You deal with your feelings by drinking, exercising, and having sex.  Especially with sex.  Do you at least agree with that?"

"Yes," I agreed grudgingly.

She nodded encouragingly.  I still did not see her point.  Luckily for me (eyeroll) she continued.  "You use sex to feel loved, to feel validated, to feel happy, to deal with being pissed off or hurt."  I glared at her, not appreciating the first two things.  "When you and Damien broke up, you went out and had a bunch of sex to deal with being hurt and angry, and to feel validated.  It was like you needed to prove to yourself that you were good enough.  That men wanted you."

"Yeah, but not really, because I was still miserable."

"That's exactly my point!" Lauren crowed.  I rolled my eyes.  "You were still miserable because men wanted you, but they didn't love you."

"You know what, I'm really sorry that I called you," I muttered.  "You're not making any fucking sense and you're starting to piss me off."

"You should have called Liv, she could have explained this a lot better and been a lot nicer about it," Lauren said.

"Oh, have you been talking about me?" I snapped.

Lauren nodded.  "Yes.  I mean, not as an ongoing thing, but we were both worried about you the night you left the bar with Cole.  So we did talk about you."

I stood up and glared at Lauren.  "You are an asshole," I told her.  "If you were so fucking worried, why didn't you say anything to me?"

Lauren's cheeks flushed a little and she glanced down.  "You're right, and I'm sorry," she said, looking back up at me.  "We should have.  We wanted to, but I was worried that if we tried, you'd get angry and push us away.  Then we wouldn't be around if something like this happened.  We thought it would be better for you if we didn't say anything at the time."

"Whatever, Lauren," I muttered, shaking my head.  I walked to the door.  "I'm going home."

"How?"

"I only live a half mile away, remember?  I'll walk."  Of course she doesn't remember, she's been MIA lately.

My hand was on the doorknob when the doorbell rang, making me jump.  "Pizza is here," Lauren said softly. I backed away from the door and let her answer it.  Lauren answered the door, paid the delivery driver, and shut the door.  "Look, if you want to go home, I'll take you.  If you want to eat, I'll shut up.  I'm not trying to hurt your feelings, and I'm sorry that I did.  I'm sorry that Liv and I were talking about you and didn't just tell you we were worried.  If you want to talk, I'll listen and I'll keep my mouth shut."

I glanced at the door and then back at Lauren.  I was still a little wobbly from my 4 martinis, and the pizza did smell really good.  My stomach grumbled softly and I decided to stay.  "I'll eat," I said finally.  "And I'll also take you up on that offer to shut up."

"Okay," she said, grinning.  "I'll get some plates."

We sat and ate in silence.  I didn't care for the quiet, so I grabbed the remote and turned the TV on.  I flipped through the channels until I found some Friends re-runs and left it there.  After about 20 minutes of neither of us talking, I looked at Lauren.  "Inferiority complex?" I asked.  "Really?"

"Okay, that was a really poor choice of words," she said.  "Sorry."

I was quiet again for a few more minutes.  Then, still staring at the TV, I started talking.  "His family is amazing, and mine is a disaster.  I don't talk to either of my parents.  The last time I saw my mom she threw something at my head and called me a whore.  The last time I saw my dad he physically assaulted me and basically disowned me.  My brother spent half my childhood in jail and just resurfaced a couple months ago.  Damien's mom loves me and his sister is married and has two great kids.  Even his stepdad is really nice to me.

"Damien has his shit together and can stay calm in a crisis or an argument.  When he's pissed at me, he tells me calmly.  When I'm pissed at him, he listens while I yell at him and act like a fool.  Meanwhile, I've fucked half of Colorado's male population and lose my shit if someone looks at me wrong.  When I'm mad I yell and say hurtful things and run away like a child.  Aside from having a good job and a retirement account and some investments and a decent amount of money in savings, I'm not very good at being a grownup."

Lauren listened silently, as promised.  "So," I finished, "I don't even think that it's just that I think I'm not good enough for him.  I'm just not.  I'm a disaster."

"Why do you think Damien is with you?" Lauren asked softly.

"I...don't know," I replied, biting my lip.  "I don't even know."

"He seems like a pretty reasonable guy," she pointed out.  I nodded.  "He seems like he knows what he wants."

"Yeah," I agreed.  "He's got his shit together."

"So why would someone with his shit together be in a relationship with 'a disaster'?"

"I don't know," I said again.

"Think about it," she prodded gently.  "Why is Alex with me?"

"Because he's loved you forever," I said, rolling my eyes.

"But why does he love me?"

I shrugged and rubbed the back of my neck.  "Because you guys just...work.  You get each other's sense of humor.  You have things in common.  He probably enjoys having sex with you."

Lauren laughed.  "I hope so," she said.  I smiled a little.  "Do you think he'd be with me if he thought I wasn't good enough for him?"

"I see what you're doing," I muttered.  "Of course he wouldn't."

"Does Damien act like you're not good enough for him?  Does he treat you like you're less than him?  Not let you make decisions?  Is he disrespectful to you?"

"Of course not," I replied.  "I wouldn't be with him if he did.  He treats me better than anyone else ever has."

"Then you're getting in your own way, because you're the only one that doesn't see you two as equals," she said bluntly.  "And my guess is him treating you so well is part of the 'problem' because you don't think you deserve it."

I didn't say anything for a long time.  I toyed with a piece of pizza crust laying on my plate.  "So what do I do about it?" I asked finally.

"Talk to him," Lauren answered immediately.  "Tell him all of this.  And Liv would suggest therapy, I'm sure."  I snorted.  Tonight was the first that Lauren was hearing about any of my shit, why would I tell a stranger?    "Talk to him, at least," Lauren said.  "I love you two together, and I want you to be happy."

I looked around for a clock, then realized Lauren didn't have one.  Another check in my grownup column.  I may stomp my feet and slam doors when I'm pissed, but at least I have a clock in my living room.  I pulled out my phone.  It was not quite 8pm.  "Call him," Lauren urged me gently.  "If you want to see him tonight, I can take you."

I glanced at her, then back at my phone.  She stood and took both our plates into the kitchen, then I heard the water running.  With a shaking finger, I pulled up my recent calls and tapped Damien's name.  He answered halfway through the second ring.  "Kinsley."  The way he said my name in greeting made me feel sad for some reason.

"Hi," I said quietly.

"Hi," he replied.  "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I answered.  "I think so, anyway." I paused, but he didn't say anything.  "Damien, I'm sorry for the way I acted this morning.  Can we talk?  I want to see you."

"Yes," he said immediately.  "Should I go there, or do you want to come here?"

"I'm at Lauren's, actually.  I, um, don't have my car.  She said she could drive me over there if you want."

"I can come get you," he responded.  "Give me 15 minutes, okay?"

"Okay," I agreed.

Lauren appeared in the doorway shortly after we hung up.  "Do you need a ride over there?" she asked.

"No, he's coming to get me," I said.  "Thank you for everything tonight."

"You're welcome.  And I really am sorry I started off kind of poorly."

"It's fine," I said.  "I wouldn't have heard you any other way."

Damien arrived 15 minutes later, just like he said.  I hugged Lauren impulsively--rare for us.  I couldn't remember the last time I'd hugged her.  "Good luck!" she told me.

"Thanks," I replied.  "I might need it."  Then I opened the door and left the safety of Lauren's house and headed towards Damien's truck at the curb.

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