I went on a date yesterday, but got broken up with three days ago. Well not so much broken up with as tossed aside for a little money and stray pussy. It doesn’t matter how handsome, well off or how kind a guy is when all you can think about on your date is dying and wondering how many faults you can find with him so you can leave before he fucks you over. I knew it wasn’t fair to compare him to anyone I’d previously dated, but there was no reason to make myself vulnerable to someone I’d just met. Crying, barely eating and being alone on a Friday night didn’t seem appealing either, so a date was my best option.
While we were having dinner he asked me what I was thinking about. I looked up at the ceiling to stare at the strings of lights and shiny decorations, turning my face towards him I answered, “a lot of things”. Adding a smile at the end of my phrase to lessen the fact that my eyes probably looked a little dead. He asked me to elaborate insisting that he’d been through both good and bad in his life and that nothing would be “too” surprising. I smiled almost laughing at the idea of telling him what was actually on my mind.
I knew someone in my position shouldn’t have been on a date. His focus was on getting to know me and mine was on trying to forget someone else. My appetite hasn’t even come back yet, I ordered a desert about the size of a small cookie and something to drink. Combined with the other food I had that day it would be considered one meal.
I’m going to tell you what I never told my date last night, it wasn’t the right time nor place for it. After all I ended up having a good time instead of a pity party so I did right by both of us.
Let me start by telling you what my ex did for a living, he sold drugs, that alone would make some people leave immediately. Though I thought it was rude of me to assume someone’s traits based on their occupation. He sold hard drugs, crack, ice, brown….you name it, and if he didn’t have it he could find someone who did. Another thing you should know about my ex is that he was more than twice my age, I am 23 and he recently turned 49. However, discriminating based on age also seemed wrong to me so I dismissed my doubts.
And I had many doubts about him as soon as I met him, but I ignored every single one in favor of believing that those doubts were actually pessimistic thoughts. Harbored by me who must not be able to have a single positive thought about this man because I am a bad person. I continued to believe this through our entire relationship.
While we were dating he used young women for money, including myself. I knew what he was doing was wrong, but I pitied a man of his age who was unable to support himself. After all, he gave me the title of girl friend and that made me feel like I was special, like I had a place in his life. Why not support someone who says they love you and is proud to show you off right? What I failed to realize was that he only showed me off in front of other men, in front of other women he held them, kissed them on the cheek, rubbed their shoulders. He did just enough to keep them around and just enough for me to feel like I was being insecure. I mean he wasn’t having sex with them so why have a fit? He convinced me that he was just down on his luck and needed to make a sale so to keep them as customers he provided that service.
The night we split up, was primarily due to what I previously mentioned, although this time a little bit different, a little more sickening. I sent him a text letting him know that I’d be coming to see him, however he hates texting. Though I figured reading a ten word text of someone you love shouldn’t have been much of a stressor, but for him it was too much. When I showed up to the house, that evening he immediately stormed towards me and said to wait in the living room. Now I respected what he said, because after all it wasn’t my house and I knew he’d been under some stress.
As of recent, we had been planning to get a place together, part of his stress was coming from the fact that he has till the end of the month to move out. Simply, because the owner of the home wants him out. I of course offered to help. My role was to put my name down because I didn’t have a criminal record, because he is an ex con, which makes it hard to get jobs and to find places to live. Luckily, due to events that happened after I entered his home that evening this will never happen.
As I sat in the living room, I was conversing with the owner of the home. He seemed almost like an older version of my ex, though they could never see eye to eye. It had been some time since he had told me to wait in the living room so I decided to grab some water, there were no cups, I grabbed one to wash. The cup I grabbed felt oily like the consistency of lube, there could only be one reason for that. My heart started pounding, I felt sick, I went to go sit in the living room. Now I’m anxious and I have to use the restroom, on top of that I know the restroom is next to my boyfriend’s room so I go to confirm my suspicion. The element of doubt still exists because I don’t go immediately to his room.
As my heart is pounding, I look at my reflection in the mirror almost as if to check my worth, sadly. Here I am all dolled up, for what? To see someone who doesn’t want to see me. I hear moaning, my suspicion is correct, I begin to realize every suspicion I had was correct. Why didn’t I believe myself? Because I didn’t want to believe the awful thoughts I had about him were true. I’d rather think that I was the bad guy for thinking that way about him.
It gets worse, I open the door to his room, he has the chain lock on and through the gap I am able to see him pounding on a girl that is a bit skinnier than I am almost frail. I’d later learn why she’s so frail, I ask him who she is, but realize I don’t care. I tell him I am his girlfriend and he comes to the door and yells at me saying, “I told you to wait outside, don’t disrespect me”. I tell him I’m leaving and he says “Good, don’t let the door hit you on the way out”. My hearts pounding a bit harder and I’m shaking with rage and fear. I feel sicker.
The owner of the home asks me if I’m ok, I no longer remember how I responded. We sit down together in the living room for a minute before he says he’d like to sit outside, I follow him without a response. We look at the stars in the night sky and I tell him I don’t know what I’ve done wrong. He tries to comfort me, but I can’t hear him, I can’t hear anything. He grabs me a chair because I'm sitting on the ground with my knees towards my chest. I follow him so I can help him carry it, at this point I’m probably following him because I don’t want to be alone. I am unstable. I can hear the girl moaning a bit louder. We go for a small walk down the road.
We return to the house, my ex is standing outside covered in sweat. He turns to me and asks me a question separate from what has taken place and I ask, “Is that your greatest concern?”. He ignores my pain, says I’ve made the situation uncomfortable. We argue in front of the house. The owner stands away from us and doesn’t get involved. My ex returns inside. I want to leave but then I’ll be alone. I don’t want to be alone. I feel sick.
Soon the owner and I also go inside, I sit on the couch, I am unstable. My ex sits beside me, I grab his hand, he tells me how much he cares for me, I tell him why he doesn’t. He says he’s fucked up in the head and cannot be faithful to me. He compares me to his ex wife. I realize he is incapable of loving me or anyone around him.
My ex and the girl leave the house, I go to his room, I lay in the bed they fucked in, I shake with rage. I am unstable. I grab the knife on the table and place it in my bag. My ex and the girl return, she is startled by my presence. My ex tells me to leave because he wants to shoot her up with heroin and fuck her. We argue, he belittles me in front of her. I realize everything he said to me on the couch was a lie. The girl sits at the table and snorts some ice, I realize the girl is just giving her body to him for drugs, she doesn’t love him. I mention this to him, he does not care. I leave the house.
I sit outside for a little while, my heart is pounding, I feel sick. My ex’s car is in the drive way. I look around to see if anyone is watching and puncture a hole in each of his tires. I head to a park with a lake in the center, on the way over there I come up with reasons as to why I deserve this. It is 3am, the park looks beautiful and the full moon hovers over the water. I cannot enjoy it.
There is a playground with a high tower and bars on all sides, I climb up the ladder, it feels like a prison. I am alone. I’m scared. For a while I felt like crying but the tears never came. My head hurts. I’m alone. I can’t close my eyes because then it will be dark, I am alone. Three men come near the playground, I hide. They whisper to each other, I’m scared. I feel sick. I have my ex’s knife beside me but don’t think of it as protection. My stomach makes noises, but they don’t hear me. They leave, I feel safe.
The sun turns the clouds pink over the lake, I head to the restroom to clean up, there is a man behind the pillar. He slowly turns to me, I pick up the pace and lock the door behind me. As I pull my clothes down to use the restroom I refuse to look at my body. Because I feel it no longer has value. I don't want to see myself as a woman, I have no value. I look in the mirror, I am decent and in tact, no one can see my pain, I have no value.
I go towards the lake and stand on the dock, the cold breeze feels nice against my face. If I look at the moving clouds over the lake it makes it seem like I’m moving across the water. A moment of happiness. The clouds are now a mix of blue and pink, I can feel the air getting hotter. My ex’s knife is in my hand, it feels filthy, I drop it into the lake. I feel worthless. I feel free. I go home.
