Moved Out Today

The past few days have been nothing short of pitiful. I wish I knew why I didn’t suck it up and leave earlier…this all could have been avoided.

Let me take you back to my confession post. Remember about his friend who spent a weekend with me? He had finally started coming around again. I think his first official return was the day before Thanksgiving. One of the biggest signs that I should have paid attention to, in terms of when I should have ended my relationship, is how alive I felt around his friend. I don’t know why or if it’s just because I was so done with my relationship already, but it truly was something I had never experienced. He inspires me almost. I don’t get it. He’s very closed up and isn’t one to show -or tell- how he feels. When he kissed me that first time, I’ll never forget what he told me. “I just thought that kissing was something you did, but I actually want to kiss you. And I don’t want to stop.” This, among other things I was told, was probably why I went away with him for the weekend. When my (at the time) boyfriend found out, the guilt that was all over his friend’s face was almost too much for me to handle. He came to my uncle’s house (the one night I stayed there before returning to the hell hole) and cried. I had never seen him so vulnerable; Not until the night he returned after the incident.

He got a call around 10 pm. It was his brother telling him that his father had passed away…the night before Thanksgiving. I could hear him bawling in the driveway. (For the sake of not confusing you, my ex will be referred to as P, his friend will be J.) P had already gotten too drunk and passed out, sleeping through J’s tears and need of a friend. I know the pain of losing a parent. I wanted to console J but I was nervous about how to go about it. How does one show that they just desperately want you to feel better without giving off the impression that I’m trying to “reignite the flame”? God knows had P come out and witnessed me on the ground next to J with even so much as a hand on his back, the whole world would have exploded in his head.

After that night, he came around a little more frequently. He was always wanting P to go do stuff with him: see a movie, go play some pool, go out to eat, whatever. While P was trying to wrap his head around the break up, I was trying to remind him that J is grieving and P was basically his only friend.

Then came New Year’s Eve. We had fireworks prepared for midnight; The girls were so excited. J, his brother, and P were all going out to eat beforehand. (J said something along the lines of “I want to eat before I start drinking,” basically advising P to do the same.) P pouted all through his dinner (yes, his free dinner that they bought him) because he “just wanted to be home with his family.” I got a call at 11:58. P was crying through his phone speaker about how sorry he was he wouldn’t be there at midnight and how they had dragged him all over the place after dinner and he just wanted to go home. I was kind of glad he wasn’t home yet; I didn’t want my first kiss of the 2017 to be with the same person I was trying so hard to get away from. Apparently J’s brother had taken it upon himself to tell P he was being a bitch, that I wasn’t worth it and that he should let me go already. This only made P angrier and caused him to drink more.

When he stumbled through the front door around 12:30 (the girls were still awake as they had been promised fireworks), he was trying to make up for being gone at midnight and picked up my youngest daughter while chanting “HAPPY NEW YEAR” at the top of his lungs. Then, he lost his footing. He came crashing down in to a hat rack/vanity by the front door, with my daughter still in his arms. He fucked his arm and his back up and had my daughter been a little more to the right than she was, her head would have been cut open. I was seething. She cried and ran to me. We went out and did the fireworks and I put my girls to bed.

J had passed out on the couch at this point. Another friend of ours had stopped by before and was still hanging out at this point. He watched and listened as P attempted to make me jealous talking about the girl he gave his number to at the bar, and how everyone is trying to “get at him.” “What you’re doing isn’t working,” he would say after P started to talk about it again. And he was right, it wasn’t working. I had been so turned off for so long already; His words really meant nothing to me.

P, who had already forgotten about hurting himself and almost hurting my daughter, looked at his hand and asked what happened. When I told him, he looked shocked and upset that he almost hurt her and took his ass to bed. He was passed out within 5 minutes. Thank God. Our other friend was blocked in by J’s car, so he asked me to wake him up. I got him up and he went to move his car to find that he had lost his keys. After about 30 minutes, our friend gave up and drove through the yard to get out of the driveway.

J smoked a cigarette with me and was being awfully flirty. I was confused, as he made it clear to me after the incident that whatever we had was finished.  Then he kissed me. Just like when he kissed me before, it felt better than I can explain. It felt right. I missed feeling his lips on mine. I was scared. I didn’t want it to stop. But we were in P’s living room and very exposed. He ended up getting a little too frisky and gave me a hickey right on the middle of my neck. I didn’t see how noticeable it was until the next morning and I spent the rest of the day trying to cover it up so P wouldn’t see. He saw it in the afternoon and in came the questions. To try and save J’s ass, I lied and said I had someone pick me up in the middle of the night. I guess I’d rather have him think I fucked some random guy instead of making out with his friend. J took him out and told me he wouldn’t be back until tomorrow, to make it easier for the girls and I to pack up and get out.

J told me if P saw our messages, I would regret it. I assured him P doesn’t look at my phone or anything. Turns out, later that night, P got into J’s phone and found the messages himself. Then he promptly called me to tell me what a conniving whore I am. Funny how I’m more of a whore for kissing someone than randomly hooking up with someone.

I spent my last evening in the house being called terrible names and trying to get away from a drunken fool. I walked around in the rain for an hour, hoping he would be asleep by the time I got home. When he wasn’t, I put my headphones in and fell asleep on the couch. After all the things he said to me, he still begged me to come to bed with him so he could “hold me one last time.” I declined. He asked me how long I haven’t given a shit about him. I asked him how long was he going to continue to live his life like this.

My uncle came this morning first thing. We packed everything up in his car and left. Now I’m doing loads of laundry to get the smoke smell out of everything. Oh, and I got a laptop when I came in so you can expect somewhat longer posts from me…when I feel like it.

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