I had to kick someone out of my house on Christmas morning.

[icarus]

I had to kick someone out of my house on Christmas morning. It was horrible.

Background: An ex boyfriend and I have been hanging out and going to restaurants--as friends now. Yesterday he started calling me his "platonic girlfriend," which I corrected, "No, I'm your friend."

A few weeks ago he assembled my computer. It went a lot later than we thought, and it was 4am by the time it was done. I was so grateful for his help--plus I'd never make anyone drive home at that late an hour--that inappropriate or not, I offered him the bed and said I'd sleep on the couch. He declined, given I had to leave at 10am and he didn't to be up at that hour.

Flash forward to Christmas eve.

He'd bemoaned the fact that he had no family or plans for Christmas, so I offered to have him over Christmas eve for movies, junk food, Christmas music, and crafts (I'd teach him how to knit a kitten). Now this year I had ten million craft projects going: knitted toys, sculpture butterflies, and some baking I planned to do. (Never got to that last item.)

We had a blast. He found out knitting was a lot harder than it looked, that Airport is a movie as dull as it is terrible, and that Airplane! is a brilliant, campy send-up. I had some of his favorite shows saved on the DVR, so we watched those, and periodically just played tinkly Christmas music. I'd warned him that I was so busy, there was no way I could do dinner, so he offered bring asparagus. When it turned out that all I had was well-frozen chicken in the house, he added steaks to that list. He even made dinner!

So everything was going great. More or less. Except he kept sitting uncomfortably close and I got the idea that he was hoping the girlfriend thing was back on the table. I scootched over.

Then 1am rolled around ... them 2am ... then 3am ... and I told him, finally, "Uh. It's way too late for you to drive home at this point, but just what time had you been planning to leave?"

I still had all my Christmas presents to wrap and many more projects to finish. Him sleeping there meant that I couldn't turn the Christmas music and cliche Christmas movies on to keep me up and beaming as I project'd. I was rather annoyed.

He hadn't considered what time to leave. And true, we ate dinner late and were both night owls. But still.

I tried to sleep on the couch but couldn't, restless with all I needed to do and couldn't. Plus, the next morning I had expected to have the house to myself to do baking and my own morning things. I hadn't planned to have him spend the night at all--he's not a good house guest, requiring lots of attention and pampering, he doesn't help out without being asked, and even the things he does, he has to bug me about ("I found this allen wrench on the bed. Where should I put it?").

I tossed, turned, and was increasingly angry at the imposition. Finally I gave up, I couldn't sleep, so I went upstairs to watch TV and calm down. I needed some privacy (haven't had a day off in 13 days) and he was horning in on it.

I didn't cool off at all. In fact, I got more and more furious as the projects I needed to do for my family's Christmas get together the following day loomed.

Fuming, calculating how much time he'd take up in the morning, I decided I just didn't have time: if was going to be an unwelcome house guest, he was going to have to deal with all I needed to do. I went downstairs (I have the basement studio) clicked on one of the lights and started wrapping presents again. And chucked the wrapping paper on the ground.

It hit the fireplace screen. Loudly.

He said, "Is everything all right?"

"No," I said, deciding to be frank, "I'm pissed off. Do you see what a bind you've put me in?" I went through the litany of all I needed to do, what I'd planned to do and couldn't now, plus the fact that I was tired, hadn't had a day off in 13 days, and needed some privacy. It seemed like I wasn't going to be able to make my family Christmas gathering the next day.

He seemed at a loss. He offered to go home, but it really was awfully late at that point.

Still, I was too angry to be in the same room with him. I went to take a shower, to see if water would cool me down. (That's when I discovered I was on my period on top of it all. Arrgh.)

I came back from my shower.

He was up, sitting on the uncomfortable couch (across from the comfortable couch), crying, trying not to, folded up like a fragile, broken doll, with a half box of used tissues crumpled in his lap.

I came running over. "Oh no, what's wrong?"

And he told me about how he had no family, that every Christmas was just another day. He'd get up, know it's Christmas, but not know what to do with himself.

"I know, sweetie," I told him. I moved him over to the comfy couch. "That's why I had you over for Christmas eve. I wanted you to have time with the cats, and presents, and Christmas music. It just wasn't supposed to bleed over into Christmas day." I hugged him. "Look. Part of this is that you're so much younger than me. You don't know these social niceties." (He's 29 and not well-socialized.) "Don't think about it. Just relax, curl up with the cats, get some sleep, and head out in the morning."

"I don't need to stay for breakfast...."

"Good, because I don't have time to cook."

He offered to have me sleep in the bed with him. I declined.

I gave up on doing my presents (I was going to be in trouble the next day but there was nothing for it, plus I was wiped after the emotional upheaval).

And, I recalled the next day why I broke up with him. He doesn't have that magical sense that tells a guest when it's time to go, not even with hints (or large blinking neon signs). He used take up incredible amounts of my time, and always demanded more. (Christ, and people called wildernessguru high maintenance.)

At ten am, with a sharp eye on how much I still had left to do, I clicked on the lights. "Good morning, Merry Christmas! What time are you heading out?"

He kept it vague. Still. "Well, I'm really tired and we were up late...."

He just. didn't. get it.

I said, very bluntly, "I would hate to have to cancel my family Christmas get together because you didn't know when to leave." I shuddered at my cruelty, it broke my heart to say it, but I didn't know what else to say to get it through his thick scull.

He said, "Eleven."

That's later than it needed to be for me to finish everything, but it was a firm time. Good. I mentally canceled all my Christmas baking and my cousin Johnny's present. (He's autistic and not used to getting a present from me, so hopefully he wouldn't notice.)

I thought to offer breakfast (normally I would) but decided that would be unwise at this point.

I went upstairs and quietly commiserated with my Uncle Richard, explaining everything from the night before. He pleaded, "Don't make me laugh...."

I said, "Well, there's no way he's coming back next Christmas."

He laughed. "That's what I was thinking! 'One thing's for sure, it's not happening again.'"

I ached. I was so miserable that I had to do this. All the Christmas eve fun we had was ruined because I needed to do the rest of Christmas. But who doesn't know they can't just ... squat ... on someone else's Christmas day without permission? Yes, he'd done this before when we were dating, taking over whole days when he was expected to go. But we weren't sleeping together anymore. That relationship was over.

At eleven, I went downstairs. He was up, but not dressed yet. I left and gave him a chance to get ready. I came back a little later, did my best to smooth things over, and walked him to the door. Gave him a hug and wished him a Merry Christmas, and to please play some Christmas music and keep his heart light, etc., etc. He said thank you for the Christmas eve, "It was much nicer to wake up to you." And he called me his "platonic girlfriend."

I corrected him, "I'm your friend. Who cares about you very, very much." He left, looking okay, if perhaps a bit embarrassed (which would be a good sign).

I went downstairs and collapsed for a few hours. I couldn't afford it. But I had no energy left to do anything about Christmas.

Mom called. I explained everything, and thank God, she was as A) as tired as me, and B) not planning to do Christmas until 6:30pm because my aunt had to work at the hospital Christmas day.

She said of my ex, after I explained the crying, "I'm sorry, but he's selfish. That's why he doesn't have good Christmases. I always have good Christmases--because I spend the whole time giving."

I did at last finish two of the remaining kittens. I gave up on wrapping and raided my aunt's Christmas bag supplies (I need to apologize to her, and thank her as well). I'd already given up on the present for my cousin John. I was late, was supposed to give my brother a ride and he called and called my dead cell phone till he finally called the house. But I was finally ready, nearly an hour late. Called him and my mom, and thankfully they were both forgiving. "Christmas starts when you get here!" she said, cheerily, code for "We've been waiting for you."

Food was good. Presents thoughtful. Company cheerful and kind. My uncle loved his Dallas Cowboys star kitten, named it Tony. Mom loved her little lavender kitten and the butterfly and perfume. My brother liked the cash (his Christmas wish, being poor), and called his fluffy kitten a Tribble (yes, it did look like one). In my hurry I forgot the presents for two other people at home, so I'll have to fix that later.

So it all worked out ... with my family. I still have the headache that started sometime Christmas morning.

And I've decided that it's thoroughly over between me and my ex. Which is a shame, because he has a milestone birthday coming up in a week (the big 3-oh) and is sure to be depressed about it.

Sigh.

Comments

[wrabbit]

That does sound emotionally exhausting. It sounds like you handled it well, though.

[icarus]

As best as I could! @.@

My eyes are still pinwheeling.

[dementedsiren]

Oh goodness. I'm sorry for both of you - you that you had to deal with this, and him that he's not in a position in his life where he can notice what should be very, very obvious. I'm sorry that it caused you so much stress and that his actions damaged the relationship so badly and ruined an otherwise lovely time.

On a slightly lighter note, you said:
But who doesn't know they can't just ... squat ... on someone else's Christmas day without permission?
I couldn't help but think of the Charlie Brown Thanksgiving special - if I remember correctly there's this part where someone invites themselves to Charlie Brown's house... and then suddenly everyone is showing up at his house for Thanksgiving even though he's supposed to be somewhere else with his family. So, um, maybe The Ex just used Charlie Brown for his social techniques? Who knows...

[icarus]

Oh no ... he's ... Peppermint Patty! LOL.

[dementedsiren]

Yep, that's the one :)

[icarus]

That's ... actually about right. He just pinged me gmail chat, blithe as can be, and seemingly unaware that what he's done is so over-the-top, he's --

a) not going to be invited for any holidays, ever again, and
b) not allowed in my house again.

[dancing_moon]

Ugh, sounds quite exhausting. But I'm glad that the family Christmas turned out nice for you
*hugs*

[icarus]

Good people, my familia.

[rellan]

Some people boggle the mind.

[icarus]

He either still doesn't get it, or doesn't want to acknowledge it out loud. He's not like WG, who's first words would've been an apology (though WG would never have done this).