Birthday Fail

I felt my face burst into flames. The night before he yelled at me and hung up the phone in my face, so of course the next phase was to arrange a face off. This fool had me standing in the driveway in my quite suburban neighborhood in my fleece robe arguing about my birthday trip. Except this wasn’t really about my birthday at all.

How could he accuse me of choosing anyone over him?!! Lies. Filthy lies. “You barely even know her and you paid for her to go on your birthday trip” he said. “I didn’t pay for her she paid me back the money I lended her to pay for her portion” I responded. “You didn’t even ask me” he said. I’ve been with you for two years, and for at least a year, I’ve been talking to you about my birthday trip! Not once did you say lets do it babe” I retorted.

She and I had been friends for about six months. Before I met her, my closest friend lived in Lubbock and was preparing to move to Los Angeles. I finally had a new friend to hangout with in my city. He didn’t see it that way. He saw her as a threat to our relationship. Clearly, I wasn’t allowed to divide my time. He was jealous and it was beyond ridiculous. He was my boyfriend and my best friend so I thought, but this fool in my driveway was a dark stranger.

He reached out to touch me and I jerked away. “Oh I can’t touch you now?” he asked offensively. I glared at him with eyes like laser beams trying to split him in two without a word. All of sudden, his voice went from shaky to quiet intensity. It was the calm before the storm, the muggy air on the back of my neck, so thick I could slice it. He folded up his arms and squared off in front of me. Love be damned.

He drove away and I was in shock of all the words left in that driveway. He called me the next morning. I had just sat my purse on my desk and turned on my computer. “I think we should breakup" he said abruptly. No good morning, no hello, no I'm sorry. I nonchantly said “ok.” The phone call ended. Down goes Frasier. In my mind was every expletive imaginable and I couldn’t dare fall apart at my job.

There I was, three weeks before my birthday and the present did not feel like a gift. The fight was over and I wasn’t sure there was a clear winner. I suppose it was him since he dumped me. I boiled with anxiety, anger, and frustration. On my lunch break, he had the nerve to call me! I sat in my car full of rage, screaming at the top of my lungs. The lava flowing from my heart burned his ego down to the ground. He erupted in tears as he pleaded with me to stop screaming. I was done. We were done. Three years later, after therapy and antidepressants, I cry every now again when I think about him. I’m still waiting for the day when I can laugh about it, but even now there’s a junk punch with his name on it. Some fights end in bloody noses and others end in broken hearts.