It's called personal space.

So the XX is here. He arrived on Tuesday a little unexectadly. I thought I'd get an "I landed" warning call, but instead I got an "I'm here" call. But whatever. I hadn't had time to blow up the airmattress that I was going to make him sleep on. I didn't get to clean my room so it was presentable or wash the dishes or my bathtub.

He's asked each morning if it's "okay" for him to be there. I say yes, of course it is. And he says I get the feeling you don't want me here, or I wonder if I've made a mistake in coming over here.

We went to see my family. (I know, but what else could I do, I don't see my brothers often or my neice and nephew. So I dragged the XX along.) He got along with everyone well and then the kicker. I said something insesitive to my mom (apparently moving out has not cured this disease) and went into the kitchen to apologize which she accepted and then I helped her clean. She then says to me how cute XX is and that she told my father so on the phone when he'd called. *picture me here with eyes bugging out* But it gets worse. Later as I'm sitting with my brothers and their wives and XX my mom comes out to say goodnight. She's saying how nice it was of him to come to dinner bla bla and then out of the blue she says "And what else did mom say about him?" As if I had come back to the kitchen and reported to the table her comment (and yes, she used the third person). Obviously I denied knowing anything, my brother looks at me with a "you don't want her to keep going do you?" look. XX insists on hearing it, because, well you can't say something like that and then not share. So she says she thinks he's sooo cute and told my father so. *picture my eyes popped out and my head hung in mortification*

It isn't that I care if my mom thinks he's cute. He is cute. It's that I specifically told her on more than one occasion that I wanted to see my family, but that I was afraid bringing XX would give him the wrong impression. I didn't want him to see it as a stepping stone to a relationship - It's time to meet my family - type. And there she goes talking to him like he's a boyfriend.

And now I'm behaving very stand-offish toward him. No wonder he's asking if I have a problem with him being here. It's not that he's here persae, it's just that he's in my personal space. I've only just gotten into this apartment. I haven't completely settled, haven't completely discovered it's quirks or where everything goes. And now he's here. I'm suddenly embarrased by the small things that were just part and parcel of having an inexpensive place. Like the fact that the tub drains slowly so you shower with water up to your ankles. Or that it's kind of cold because I leave the heat off if I'm not home, or that the heating unit occasionally likes to blow cool air. I am already frustrated with trying to find him free parking when I told him not to rent a car that he could use mine. I don't like feeling like a kid playing house around him. He's 7 years older than me his apartment when I met him (when he was my age now) was nicer and bigger than mine and was generally more established than I am. He brought be very thoughtful X-mas gifts, and then bought me a coffee maker and has said on occasion since he's been here "don't worry, I'll get you that" about something I don't have. He wanted to make coffee and was going to use my new coffee grinder which I haven't even used yet. That's when I realized that I was irritated at his presence. But it isn't him completely. I am on my own now and that's how I want to be, on my own. I appreciate help, I'm not saying I don't or that I don't need it. I just don't enjoy being coddled and I don't want to feel like I'm a little girl.

That is how I feel around him. It was fine 6 years ago when I was young and he was my first real relationship. I wanted to be taken care of. Now I wish he would stop trying to take care of me. It's not his place and it is wearing thin. It is wearing thin and he's here for another 8 days.

At the same time I am too nice to say anything. I realized, that I did the same thing the X. I was afraid that he'd hate me, I was afraid we wouldn't be friends anymore so I didn't tell him no when I felt no and instead I let it drag on until he ended up hurt. Now he doesn't speak to me. Self-fufilling prophesy. I'm going to have to come clean with the XX, I just don't know when.

We are supposed to visit my father's tomorrow. Maybe my gun-toting father will scare him off and I'll be off the hook.