Hell is Other People

by Gwen Cooper — July 16, 2007

I'm what my friends affectionately refer to as a "control freak." The hardest thing in the world for me to do is sit back and wait for other people to do things--I'd much rather go out and make things happen than let events unfold on their own. But, through nobody's fault but my own, I can't do anything right now except wait to see if and when and how Robert will take me back (or cut me loose) after what happened with Brad.

Well, nothing I can do about the relationship. But there's plenty I can do in general, and when I run out of things to do I can always go back and make sure that I did all the stuff on my "to do" list as well as I should have the first time around.

And, so, I currently live in an apartment that is spotlessly clean from top to bottom (cleansing my guilty conscience, maybe? Freud, anyone?). I have attacked every last dust bunny clinging to life under a bed or behind a couch with a ferocity that would frighten survivors of the beaches at Normandy. I have re-organized closets, discarded old clothes, alphabetized my bookshelves and CDs, balanced my checkbook, and answered every last bit of email correspondence I have. I think I may have even inadvertently responded to a few spammers in the process. I've brushed my cats so many times that they now flee in panic as soon as they hear me open the drawer where their brush is kept. I've even created an Excel spreadsheet listing all of the above-mentioned tasks--and a few of the longer-term ones (such as polishing silver and flipping mattresses) that don't need to be done routinely--and arranged them in descending order of the dates when they need to be tackled again.

Nobody can say my time's been wasted.

Filling up time without Robert seems to be all I have the option of doing at this point, but even with so much that can be done, the time still drags. I've found myself actively engaged in staring contests with my phone, as if I could get it to ring through sheer force of will.

So far, it isn't working. It's the suspense that's killing me--for better or for worse, I wish I knew what Robert will decide to do so I could just get on with the business of dealing with it.

I think the Catholics got it all wrong; it's Purgatory that's the real Hell.

Gwen Cooper is the author of Diary of a South Beach Party Girl, recently published by Simon & Schuster. To read all of Gwen Cooper's posts in "The Dating Life," click here.