Part 1:

Can someone actually sum up something as complex as the most important moment in their life into only one moment? A moment that changes you and sticks with you forever doesn’t happen in just a single moment. It’s the moments that lead up to the most important one and the moments that follow that make that one so important . To understand the most important moment in my life you need to know the moments, the hours, even the years, that preceded it and followed it. The moment is as simple as this, I snapped. I was bartending a crowded room I was pouring and mixing nonstop, stress levels were reaching critical. She waved me over, a menacing smile on her face. I walked to her, and my shoes stuck to the sticky beer soaked floor as I did.

I leaned in and asked her what she needed. She didn’t need anything, she wanted to insult the way I looked, which had become all to common in recent months. The last thing I needed at that moment was to hear that only old men wore pleated pants and that I looked goofy in front of all these people. That’s all it took, pleated pants. The most important moment, the one that changed my life forever was how I reacted when my girlfriend of seven years made fun of me for wearing pleated khakis. I tried my best to keep my temper controlled but I couldn’t. I snapped, right there in front of all those people. I mean it’s not like any of them noticed, they were too busy having a good time. But she not only heard it, she felt it. I honestly can’t remember my exact words, thats how unimportant they were to me but they were something amongst the lines of ’fuck you, I don’t fucking care.” Simple words that can be more painful then most weapons.

The tension didn’t start there, that night, no that tension was building for a long time. Something happens sometimes when people are in a relationship for a long time, maybe longer then they should be. What happens is those people get strange urges to want to hurt the other person, not physically, at least not for us. But for some reason we found ourselves in the bad habit of criticizing each other and putting each other down for no reason, even pleated pants. We were, as some would put it, in a rut. I loved that girl, and yes the past tense in that statement gives away the ending but like Steven King likes to point out, it’s the story that matters not the ending.

She half heatedly tried to apologize but I ignored her, wouldn’t even look at her. We dated for seven years and I was so angry so overwhelmed, that I couldn’t even look at her, and that’s not acceptable. I snapped and I was irrational, and at that time I thought I was right and there was n convincing me otherwise. Not Until she stood up that was, then everything shifted. She grabbed her coat and her bag, and stormed out the door. I watched her go with new waves of feelings coursing through me. I was furious with her, how could she do this to me? I was furious with myself, how could you let her go? The room was spinning and suddenly nothing mattered anymore. Everyone was suddenly gone and the room was empty. There was no one left but her, and in something so simple as a moment, she was gone too.

It was my brother who broke my trance, from across the bar he told me what I was thinking. His words thawed my frozen body, he told me to stop her, don’t let her leave. That was all it took, I lunged forward and recklessly scrambled for the door. Outside I looked across the parking lot and saw her at her car, about to open the door. I called to her and ran, I ran as fast as my tired legs would carry me. I begged her, please don’t go, stay, I’m sorry. But she refused and before I could stop my eyes from burning, she was gone.

Two days went by and we didn’t talk. That’s the longest we’ve ever gone in seven years of dating. Finally I broke, the ball was in her court I had told myself, she left I begged her to stay but she left, it was her choice what happened next, but I broke. I asked if she’d come for dinner, if she refused and told me she wanted to meet the next day, she said we needed to talk. I knew what it meant I knew what was happening, but I was in denial. I was just so happy to see her I ignored what I really knew was happening. We sat in the leather booths at the diner and I told her I was sorry and she told me she was done with me. I cried, I tried to leave but she wouldn’t let me. I suppose the stab wound wasn’t enough, she had to twist before she let me go.

I never cried as much as I did that night, and I honestly I don’t even know why, but I couldn’t control myself anymore. You get the point, I was heartbroken and it was all because of that one little moment. If you google moment, the dictionary will tell you it’s a very brief period of time. But what it won’t tell you is how a very brief period of time can affect many periods of time to come. Two weeks I ached and suffered, or at least I thought I did.

This is is an emotional story for me and if I can muster the strength I’ll finish it. I didn't take the time to revise or edit or anything. The words poured out of me and I just watched from a distance with tear filled eyes. Sorry if there’s any grammar mistakes or errors that take away from your experience.

-J.C.Ryans