January 1, 2018. In all my 20+ years of dating (good lord), I’ve had my share of arguments, disagreements, tiffs, blowups, etc. I have definitely raised my voice to varying degrees; but I had never lost my shit on someone the way I did on him that New Year’s morning.
I ran down the stairs, stood in front of the TV and yelled, nay, SCREAMED and pointed at him. I remember I stood on my tip toes at times because I was so amped.
I blasted him about rushing home early, only to watch fucking TV!
I blasted him about being a selfish asshole!
I blasted him about being inconsiderate!
I asked him what the fuck he wanted out of this!
I asked him what the fuck he wanted from me!
I asked him what the fucking point was to us, to all of this!
I accused him of being a fucking liar!
I told him I was an idiot for sticking around!
I babbled.
I pleaded.
What was wrong with him!?
I bawled my eyes out and yelled until I lost my breath.
I guess that’s what a year of internalizing bullshit does to a person.
He didn’t say a word. He continued looking past me, watching the TV.
When I got my bearings, I took a deep breath and sat next to him on the couch. I asked him what his problem was. I told him to just fucking end this shit and let me go if he didn’t want it.
The coward didn’t look at me once. He stared straight at the TV as I spoke to him. He said that “he never wanted anything serious and he didn’t need this drama in his life”. He ended it by saying, “yeah, it’s over. If that’s what you wanna hear, we’re done. Now if you would please respect my space and go to bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
I got up and went to bed, drunk, exhausted and once again, defeated.
The next morning I went downstairs and climbed onto the couch. I tried to snuggle him, but he kept his arms crossed, still not looking at me. He said he was “fine”. I got up and got dressed.
He drove me to my car (I left it at Kay’s). I asked him if he was ok and apologized for screaming. His response was, “yeah, I don’t want to talk about it, I’m over it”.
We were finished.
I was a mess. I talked to my girls every damn day, every other minute.
My desperation was palpable. I had never in my life wanted to be with someone so badly who just didn’t want me back.
I heard from him a week or so later. He sent a text, “sorry I’ve been so distant, I’ve needed some time”…and that was it…until another couple of weeks later.
February 2018. He phoned me out of the blue. He invited me to lunch.
I was flabbergasted and excited.
We decided to go for sushi during the week, on my lunch break.
I met up with him in the shop area and then we went together in his truck.
At first we talked as if nothing happened; like we were friends who hadn’t seen each other in a while. He was actually sweet; like when we first started hanging out. We chatted about what we’d been up to over the last month. I told him I wasn’t great; that I wished things were different.
He said he missed me and still cared for me, but needed to be alone and focus on himself. He wanted to be friends. I agreed.
I sat there, still wanting him to want me.
He paid the bill and drove me back to campus.
We said “bye” and that was it…
…or so I thought…
NOTE: There isn’t a “Lessons Learned” section, as I learned nothing from Big Country’s experience until much later.
He’s a Fucker. Seriously.