The weekend after I buried my Father, was also the last weekend the Prince was living home with me. He is still drug free, we still speak to each other almost daily, and I still see him often. It is just that we aren't meant to live together. As sad as that makes me.
Being a drug addict, mind you a drug addict who is not currently using, the Prince has long ago mastered the art of manipulation and bullying as a tactic to getting his way. He loves to play the victim, make it all about him.
He very quickly got very comfortable living at my house. Part of the arrangement was he was to secure some kind of employment. He has yet to do so. So I was supporting him and his girlfriend. They would leave me shopping lists of the foods they wanted, they were ordering movies daily off of the pay per view. I was paying for their cigarettes. His sobriety is always so important to me and I felt I was doing what I had to do to keep him clean. Right back to the old enabling ways.
When they first moved in, they made sure to have the house clean before I arrived home from work and to at least start dinner and help La Petit with his homework. The clean house thing is a serious pet peeve of mine. Its my house, I work hard, I like, no I demand it to be kept the way I leave it. So I started coming home to a sink full of dishes, computer wires etc., running through the house, overflowing ashtrays, their room just disgusting and smelly. I was started to really loose it, and it was creating a lot of tension. Especially since he was not looking for work, the only interviews he had gone on, were ones I set up for him. The girlfriend managed to find herself a part time gig at a local supermarket.
The day after my Father passed, to go the funeral parlour to make the arrangements for his wake, my former mother in law was taking my boys shopping to get suits. This created a conflict about who was going to pick up the girlfriend from her job at 4 pm. This healthy, 18 year old girl is apparently unwilling or unable to walk the 2 miles from the supermarket to our home or inconvenience her own family to pick her up. My son called me furious that I had the audacity to be at the funeral parlour and was therefore unavailable to play chauffeur to his girlfriend.
Later in the week, during the wake etc., my Prince had reconnected with alot of his cousins he hadn't seen during all of the years he was out getting high. He started making plans to get together with alot of them. The day after my fathers burial, I was very, very happy to have the out of town relatives, etc., pack up and go home. I am basically a quiet person, I needed my space and quiet. Time alone to work through my feelings and my loss. The Prince tells me his cousin from the East end was going to be coming out and spending the weekend. I told him, no, that was going to happen, this was not a family reunion. He was not going to use my father's death to throw a party for his long lost cousins. He got angry with me. Whatever. So I asked him if he could spend the weekend at his girlfriends house just so I could have some peace. They grudgingly obliged. He stopped in over the weekend to pick up some clothes and he saw that La Petit was home, he was somehow under the impression that he would not be "allowed" in the house for the weekend either. He flipped out and said, "I'll see you in a few months" and stormed out of the house.
I was deeply hurt by his behavior. He was just so hurtful and mean to me. I couldn't believe it. I felt as though I was punched in the face. The old Prince, although clean, was rearing his ugly head. I wish I could say that I miss him living with me, but when he is there, there is no peace or serenity. And I worked too hard to have that in my home.