Cups of Sugar

I have a roommate that I wish would move away. 

I can’t leave, myself, you see. I’m stuck here. I didn’t choose these cramped rooms with narrow doorways in this building that’s really too small to comfortably house two. I’d rather be somewhere else, but since I don’t have a choice in the matter, I’m working with the situation, trying to keep these cramped rooms as clean and comfortable as I can while making the best use of the space I have.

It’s really not all bad. There are wonderful days — and nights — here often enough, especially when the roommate is sleeping, and I can appreciate all the lovely things around me. Like when the sunlight and moonbeams hit the windows just right, and the neighbourhood outside is peacefully quiet, and the weather is a little calmly overcast or the moon is beaming down at its full luminance as if to say “Look up for a change! The sky is worth your time and attention too! Am I not beautiful?” Sometimes things are so good, I’ll let in a guest or two here and there and we’ll manage a good conversation or play for a time, without interruption. There is happiness available here.

Then there are the times that the awful villain  decides to start acting up. It gets noisy. Bangs on the walls. Screams obscenities at me. Sometimes it goes so far as to brazenly assault me in my own hallways, or follow me out about town. It tries to chase away my guests, not directly, but by manipulating me into doing so. It’s really insidious, when it wants to be. It tries vicious, underhanded tactics, trying to convince me that my guests are harbouring secret hate for me and that they pine for my downfall. At its worst, it will even try to convince me that it’s not worth my continuing to live with it. It whispers cruelly, trying to seduce me into believing that the best action I could take would be an absolute, final exit, as that would finally free me of it.

I sometimes try to persuade the obnoxious ass to leave. To live elsewhere, and never bother me again. But as time goes by and it digs in its heels, I’m finally realizing that I don’t have much choice in the matter. It’s here to stay. The best I can hope for is to defend against it and turn it away the best I can when it’s on the offensive, and try to keep it somewhat placated in between attacks in hopes of keeping it at rest longer. 

(May I summon the strength to accept what I cannot change…)

So… how does one do that? How does one successfully minimize the annoyance and potential damage from a pesky housemate or neighbour, or unwanted guest who refuses to leave?

Where vitriol fails, I try pouring honey instead.

Like a good roommate or neighbour, I lend it books or video games to occupy it for a little while, allowing me to enjoy my own leisure time unbothered. Or, I give it a cup of sugar when it asks (somehow making my own baking sweeter). I craft baked goods of my own and offer them as olive branches. The slices of cherry pie seem to calm it down effectively fairly often, and sometimes even lull it — and me — back to sleep. My blueberry tarts also seem popular, if messy, as I end up with blue all over me, running around barefoot, sweaty and dirty. Sometimes words are even enough, when I share those gifted to me by my guests who haven’t yet been routed by its assaults. Sometimes I try serenading it with music. That doesn’t usually send it back to sleep, but if nothing else, it can help drown it out for a time.

To those who would argue I need to fight it at every twist and turn: A house crafted of bone can withstand a few thrown stones but will eventually start to crack and break down — what’s the cost of a few cups of sugar to prevent that?

This unwanted cohabitation may persist for a few more decades yet, so I have to keep trying. As I learn to manage it better, I wish the roommate would make more effort too, but I know that I can only control my own actions and feelings. I need to respond, not react, and remember that I can always choose.