Part Two 

Of his birthday celebration went like this:

His dad got paid today and offered to buy beer and food for him to make. Then our mutual friend through a job we both had asked if we were doing anything to celebrate. He told me to invite her and her boyfriend over and, of course, to bring beer. It was actually chilly tonight and awfully windy, but he wanted to make dinner on the new fire pit his dad got for Christmas. After suffering through the cold, we went in and I’m almost positive the only people who ate were my girls and I. 

After we ate, he asked me to drive to the gas station and get cigarettes. When I stepped outside, another friend was pulling up. With more beer. We all hung out for a while, his eyes more glassy every minute. I got a call from another friend around eleven; he was headed this way to celebrate. He walked through the door about fifteen minutes later with his new/old girlfriend on his hip and a 12 pack in his hands. Not to mention the 15 pack that he sent me back to the store to get, after convincing his mom to get him some beer…as long as he didn’t drive.

Everyone had left around midnight, save for one straggler who is passed out on the couch. By this time, he was stumbling around and texted me asking to get in the shower with him. I declined. He got upset but went in the shower anyway. After a few minutes, I heard what was clearly someone throwing up. I went in to check on him. He always takes showers with the lights off, it’s so strange. I turned the light on and he was still hurling from what I could hear. I pulled back the curtain to find him sitting down in the shower, half asleep, covered in vomit. The smell (and sight) was absolutely revolting. 

I went to the room and grabbed a few towels. I returned to the bathroom and had to slap him fully awake. “Get the fuck up, clean yourself up, and get in bed.”

“I HATE MY LIFE!” I heard him yell as I walked out of the bathroom. 

All the sadness I felt last night was gone. He reminded me tonight why I’m leaving. 

Time That I Hate

My period:

When I sit in the shower and cry because it’s over. Then I have to remind myself that yes, we had a good day. But the bad will come again. This is what a vicious cycle does. 

My hormones are all over the fucking place and I hate it. I knew it would be like this but I was hoping I would be gone already. 

I’m mad at myself for feeling weak. Like I’m not supposed to be sad, so what the fuck am I doing wiping tears away right now? 

I make myself sick sometimes.

Successfully Avoided 

His sexual birthday favor. A friend of his took him to a bar and he had dinner and was passed out by ten. He’s snoring loudly and his breath reeks however many pitchers of beer he drank (plus the 18 pack, the top shelf margarita, and tequila shot he had beforehand).

He told me sometimes it felt like I was his only friend. If he really felt that way, why doesn’t he step back a little? See how ready I am to move forward in my life. 

My uncle will probably be here Saturday to get some things to take to his house. I haven’t even started packing. Tomorrow, for sure. 

I Slept

Past one this afternoon. I felt shitty inside and out, so why not? He worked all day and after being pushed around throughout the night (he’s a restless sleeper, moves nonstop), it felt good to have the bed to myself for a few hours. 

I wrote down some goals I’d like to accomplish over the next year. Next up is writing out my plan to achieve those goals. 

I should have packed some stuff up today. My back hurt so bad though; I really didn’t want to move.

Tomorrow is his birthday. Guess his sexual request is out of the question. Well, I hope it is. 


I started my period today. I got an IUD put in after I had my youngest and while my periods are very light, I get all the other bullshit (cramps, headaches, mood swings) ten times over. It’s terrible. I have felt shitty all day. 

Before he left for work, he had asked me why I was being so mean. After I discovered I had started, I texted him to tell him that was why I was being bitchy. My intention was to imply we were not having sex. I guess he made decent tips tonight because along with his beer he brought home some chocolate for me. “I’m sorry you’re not feeling well.” His sweet side came out tonight and I was reminded there was a decent person in there. 

I spoke with my uncle this evening. He will be visiting toward the end of the week to gather some things to take to his house. He typed up a pretty reasonable roommate agreement (he’s all about paperwork and accountability, something he’s been trying to get drilled in to my brain my entire life) that I’m sure he will have me sign when he comes to pick up the stuff. My brother is also staying with him. It will be a full house and I’m sure my uncle is less than pleased.

I’m almost free.