I thought that the snow would make getting to work on Monday kind of difficult, and I was right. I really wanted to take an uber, until I saw the fare surge was like 4.5x and decided that I could probably tough it out in the snow. I brought extra pants and shoes to work just in case, but everything wound up being okay. I work with a lot of people who live in the suburbs, and none of them were in, so it was a really quiet day. I got a ton of stuff done (I work in finance, so month-end is a really busy time for us anyway), and was feeling pretty good about things in general until around lunch. John doesn't really text during the day--I think he got yelled at for doing it when he first started his new job, so he usually just turns his phone off once he gets to work in the morning. Lately though, he had been texting me a lot around 12:30, and they were usually messages about how depressed he was to be at work and how much he hated it and that he loved me. It was really sweet, but also kind of overbearingly depressing to think about. We'd fallen into this pattern over weeknights of letting a bad day at work set the tone for the evening, and I was really wanting to break that habit. I really like my job, and it does stress me out quite a bit, but I'm usually able to leave it at work and just come home and relax and be happy to be home. Johnathan isn't that easily soothed.
After I got home at 4, I started putting some stuff out on the kitchen counter to make us dinner: stuffed shells with mozzarella, grated parm, muenster, garlic powder, basil, sauteed mushrooms, and a little bit of whole milk. It takes a while to make, but it's really easy for one person since everything is done in stages. Doug got in around 5:30 and came and hung out in the kitchen with me and we smoked a blunt together and I started Frozen on my laptop which eventually made Doug leave. John still wasn't home by the time everything was ready to go in the oven, so I just stuck it in the fridge and waited.
John got home a little after 8, and he came in and slammed the door and started pulling off his coat and scarf. His face looked so stern and angry that it was kind of unsettling. I walked over to him, and he kissed my cheek and then immediately went into our bedroom and lit another blunt.
"I'm going to get very drunk tonight, if that's alright with you." His mouth was just set in this line, he was so stern. If I hadn't been worried, I would have probably laughed.
"Okay baby. I have dinner all done, we just have to bake it." I took the lit blunt from him and dragged deep. It takes a lot of pot to get me stoned now, but that doesn't really make me feel any less stupid when I am high.
"Thank you," he leaned over and kissed my cheek. "How was your day?"
"Not bad. Everyone was stuck at home under the snow. How was yours?"
And it was like I'd opened a floodgate: he just started ranting and ranting. I listened, and nodded my head, until it seemed like he ran out of the energy he would need to continue.
"I just hate being there so much. I fucking hate it, Lauren. It fucking kills me and I feel like I'm wasting my life," he exhaled a huge cloud of smoke and let his shoulders slump. I started rubbing his back gently.
"I know. I'm sorry. We'll try to have a good night though, okay? You're home now." Johnathan rolled his eyes, and got up and went into the living room. It stung, but I just figured he'd had a really rough day and let it go.
The whole rest of the night was like that: John just being really sulky and dramatic and miserable, and I kept trying to cheer him up. He drank a ton of vodka and we watched old X-Files episodes with Doug. At least he liked what I'd made for dinner.
Tuesday wasn't much better. I was really busy again. The shoes I bought to wear for the wedding came and I didn't even open the box at work to look at them or try them on. I don't think I've ever done that before. I also got a package from Amazon: the Patton Oswalt book I'd bought for John.
When I left work, it was snowing again, and windy, and colder than it had been in the morning. This tall guy in a red parka with his hood up kept walking around me and sort of sneaking glances at me when I was waiting for the train, which I thought was kind of weird but not too weird, just because there are odd randos everywhere, especially on public transit. Eventually, when the train came, he got on right behind me and sat next to me. He pushed the hood of his parka back and I saw longish blond hair and a scruffy beard and bright blue eyes.
Holy shit.
It was Garrett.
I yelped. We made the connection at the same time and both burst out talking.
"Ohmygod, hi! What are you doing here?" Garrett grinned.
"I'm here with Becca [his primary partner], we're thinking about moving back here. We're visiting friends right now, she's meeting up with me later. I thought I recognized you! I like your hair," he reached out and touched the ends of my bob, which was finally starting to graze my shoulders on the longer side. I smiled, self-consciously.
"I mean," I pointed at the ground, "what are you doing
here?" From everything Garrett had told me about Chicago, he really hadn't liked the downtown very much. He was too much of a hipster.
"Ohhh," He reached down and pulled up his laptop bag. "I had to get a new charger. Mine broke on the plane."
There was a pause, and suddenly I felt really self conscious.
"So," he smiled again, more tentatively this time, "are you happy to see me?"
"At least you're not David."
"Who's David?"
"Nevermind." I faked a smile. "So. Why are you thinking about moving back?"
"My advisor in DC just went on maternity leave, and then she emailed me and said she wouldn't be back. She was the reason why I was there in the first place, though, and I don't want to work with someone new when I only have six months left [of postdoc work]. I contacted my old grad school group here, and they offered me a position that would probably last a year or two. So... we're thinking about it. Becca really misses living here, too. Her other boyfriend is still here."
I felt like that was inserted for a reason, but I didn't really want to think about why. I shifted uncomfortable in my seat.
"That's really cool. I hope you can find work you enjoy more. I remember how busy you were over the summer."
"Do you want to grab a beer? It's pretty early," Garrett trailed off, and looked away. I'm so used to John staring me down all the time that Garrett's passivity was getting on my nerves.
"Uhm, hold on," I pulled a face and grabbed my phone out of my pocket, "I should probably ask my fiance if that's okay with him." I texted a quick message to John: "ran into Garrett from DC. Going to have a quick drink with him, I'll still beat you home."
"Why?" Garrett's brow furrowed, "Would he be upset?"
"Uhm, I don't think so. I just want to check. We're not in an open relationship." I left out the part about how upset John had been when Garrett had been sending me nonstop emails back in September.
"What?!"
"Uh, yeah. It happened a few months ago. After we got engaged, though."
"So you really did say fiance?" His mouth was hanging open. "That wasn't a mistake?"
I pulled off my gloves and held up my left hand, showing my ring. Garrett swiftly ducked his head in a nod.
"Beer?" We were at the North/Clybourn stop, and I figured we could just go to Goose Island or something. I was probably being paranoid, but I didn't really want to go anywhere closer to where I lived.
Without responding, Garrett got up and I followed him. We didn't talk until we were inside again, and he was definitely sulking. I ordered a Green Line Pale Ale and yanked my parka off, wishing I had worn something nicer that day, although I did have these fabulous ass-flattering high-waisted black skinny jeans from rag & bone.
"So why monogamy?" For once, he looked very assertive. It was a welcome change.
"We didn't want to be with anyone else," I shrugged. "It just felt very natural."
"He didn't bully you into it?"
"No, Johnathan wouldn't have done that."
"So, this was the guy you were talking to when you still lived in DC?" Garrett looked pained, and I remembered spending the night with him and waking up in the middle of the night to a bunch of texts from John. I'm such a bitch sometimes.
"Yes." I sipped my beer, trying to drink as much of it as possible without looking like that was what I was doing.
"I just don't understand," he paused, and ran a hand through his shaggy hair "when I met you, you were all about being free and open and living in the moment, and I really liked--loved--that about you. It was so different from everyone else I'd ever met. And now you're just giving it up?"
"That's not really how it worked, though. I don't want anyone else but him."
"I think you're just saying that," Garrett was still fiddling with his hair, tucking blond strands behind his ear. "I think it's still just new and exciting, and you're going to get bored. Are you honestly telling me that this guy fulfills everything you want?"*
"Yes." I gave him a tight smile, knowing full well this was the wrong answer, "he does."
"I don't believe that. I felt that at first with Becca, and then as we got used to each other, I realized it wasn't true. I DO need other people, and so does she. And so do you. And so does your boyfriend."
"Just because it didn't work for you doesn't mean it won't for me. My relationship is VERY different from yours!"
"Yeah, in that you're being childish and immature," he stared at me and exhaled very slowly, "and that I'm rational. At least I understand how these things work. You found someone you really love, and that's awesome, but don't limit yourself."
"I'm not limiting myself!" I glared at him, "This is exactly what we wanted."
"We?" He gave me an incredulous look. "We? Really? You've known this guy for how long? Five months?"
"It's our six month anniversary today," I said quietly, looking down at my lap.
"I can't believe you. You're a fucking sellout, Lauren," Garrett hissed under his breath, "People like you are so fucking stupid." He slammed his glass down, grabbed his parka, and left me alone in the bar.
I was stunned, and I could feel tears welling up. The only person who's really consistently mean to me like that is Patrick, and I'm so used to his shit that I just laugh when he's a dick. One of the bartenders, this cute brunette girl, was giving me a sympathetic look and somehow that just made me feel worse. Fishing my wallet out of my bag, I threw a $20 on the bar, slowly put my coat on, and walked over to the bathrooms. Trying to swallow the lump in my throat, I pulled my phone out of my coat pocket. Johnathan had never texted me back, which wasn't unusual (like I said before, he really can't look at his phone when he's at work), especially considering it was only 4:30. I was going to make myself wait ten minutes so I wouldn't run into Garrett again at the train, but then just decided to take a cab.
When I got home, I got in the shower and cried. I wasn't upset because of what he said. I get that a lot of people probably DO think I'm a sellout now, including a lot of my more open friends in DC. John and I have even joked about how we both are. I was mostly upset because I was embarrassed to be called out. The shower helped, though, and I felt much calmer by the time Johnathan got home.
John came into the bedroom with his coat and boots still on, which he never does. His mouth was set in a thin line. I felt the lump in my throat start to come back.
"How did it go?" he asked in a neutral voice, keeping his eyes on me.
"Pretty badly. I told him about us and he called me an idiot and a sellout." I stared back into John's eyes. I could see him softening, despite apparent resolve to be upset with me.
"Why?"
"Oh.. y'know. Because we rejected poly and decided to go be sheep with the rest of everyone, I guess." I gave John a half smile. "And I really couldn't be happier about that."
"I'm happy too, baby. I love you." He sat down on the bed with me and kissed my temple.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gone with him."
"Probably not, no. But you did anyway. I'm sorry he was such a prick."
"I probably deserved it," I heaved a huge sigh, "are you upset with me?"
"No, I just.. I dunno. I feel like you have a really hard time saying no to people, but if I knew you less well, I would think you just liked the attention," John was speaking very slowly and deliberately, as if to gauge my reaction.
I covered my eyes with my hands and let my head flop forward. "You're right."
"About what?"
"Both, I guess. I didn't really want to hang out with him. It was awkward. I kind of felt like I couldn't say no."
"You need to work on that, baby."
"I know. I will." With that, John kissed my forehead again and got up to take off his coat.
The rest of the night was surprisingly normal, although I still felt kind of bad. John was good about not making me feel worse, but it took a couple of days for things to really feel they had come back from that.
*A HUGE argument that poly people like to use is "Why would you rely on one partner to fulfill all your needs? Do you only have one friend?". It's annoying and preachy, and I've definitely used it before on people. Serves me right, now.