I’m The Asshole
July 2023 -
I can feel the tightness in my chest. It feels like I am being split in two. I have had the most incredible weekend, and yet I can barely breathe. If the Universe were tangible and I wouldn’t look crazy screaming at myself, I would be losing it right now. How could she put me in this position?
“You gonna tell me what’s going on?” AC asks as he sips his beer. It’s close to 100 degrees, and we are sitting on the patio of a delicious Thai restaurant just outside Pittsburgh. The small waterfall is flowing in the corner, and the Edison lights strung overhead have created the perfect setting. I never want this moment to end… and yet, in 12 hours, I will be on the road to spend two days with someone else, and everything inside me is telling me not to go.
“Just trying to decide what to do about tomorrow,” I whisper, looking down and twirling my cashew chicken around on my plate. “I know this is a test from the Universe. I’m supposed to voice my thoughts, stand in my truth, and not go, but I feel like such an asshole. I had months to back out, and I didn’t, so now I feel obligated to show up.”
“You see this as a test?”
“Yes.”
“Ok, what happens if you fail?”
“Well, I prolong my journey. I can’t advance until I pass the test, so she will give me the same test in another way.”
“Will it be easier next time?”
“Probably not.”
“So what the fuck are you doing? Pass the test. When we get back to the hotel, you need to call and tell him you aren’t coming.”
Fuck.
I put my fork down and took a long pull on my drink. I know he is right, but I really don’t want to do this. There is no way for me not to be the asshole here.
AC spent the rest of the meal trying to make me feel better, attempting to crack jokes and assuring me it would be alright.
As soon as we walked into the room, I pulled out my phone, took a deep breath, and started recording a voice message. “Hey, I’m not really sure how to say this. I know I’m supposed to be leaving bright and early, but I can’t come. I don’t have a good reason, I wish I did. I just know I’m not supposed to meet you there. I understand if you never want to talk to me again. I’m so sorry.” I hit send and tossed my phone to AC because I couldn’t handle whatever was coming next.
AC grabbed a beer from the mini fridge and looked at me as he sat down in the chair kitty-corner to the bed. “If he’s mad and he’s a dick, what does it matter? Who cares if he hates you?”
I looked up and made eye contact, “He won’t be a dick. He will be gracious and comforting.”
“I’m really confused. If you aren’t worried about him being a dick, what are you worried about?”
“He doesn’t deserve what I just did to him, and I don’t deserve his kindness and understanding after the fact.”
My phone chimed.
“He replied,” AC said, holding up my phone so I could see.
“I can’t look—just read it to me.”
“I have kind of been waiting all day. Something seemed off. I have to ask one question right now. Is our season over?”
He then tossed the phone over to me to respond. All I could manage was three little letters: idk. [I don’t know]
I could feel the tears bubbling under the surface. They held guilt, shame, remorse, and all the feelings that come when you know you’re the asshole. It didn’t take long for them to start pouring out of me uncontrollably. Every time I thought I was done crying, I cried some more. I cried well into the early hours of the morning, breaking every single part of the agreement between AC and me. Yet, he simply held me tight, kissing my forehead, reminding me I did the right thing, and telling me it would all work out in the end.
Of course, it did work out, although the scar from that weekend is still visible. This was the weekend that I knew I was in love with AC. The moment I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he made me a better human.
The test of allowing myself to be the asshole and putting my needs ahead of others was one of the hardest tests the Universe has presented to me.
My entire adult life I had been moving along out of obligation.
Obligation is a chain that holds you back. It allows you to take so many steps before it yanks you backward, assuring that the only discomfort you ever feel is that which is familiar to you. In some ways, it keeps you from getting hurt.
Had I packed up and followed through with my obligation that week, I wouldn’t have felt the deep pain of being the asshole that night. I also would have never felt the growth that came alongside it. There is so much I would have missed out on had I not chosen myself in those moments.
