The Last Gunslinger

Catharsis

Generally when it comes to a blog thingy, I try not to get too into the personal details of my life, unless they are particularly amusing, but I’ve just had a rather radical life change, and I feel it would be cathartic to write about it.

Gosh, I can’t think of a way to talk about it that doesn’t sound silly. Either way, my live-in girlfriend of 2 and a half years broke up with me. Everything was fine at first. It was weird more than sad. I tried to fill my time with distractions when I wasn’t awkwardly splitting furniture between the master bedroom and the extra room she was confined to. I went to a lot of shows, and drank more alcohol in the next 2 weeks than I can even remember. I think I was just perpetually hung over. I think that even persisted until late last week.

Everything was still reasonably okay, more just uncomfortable at its worst. Two weeks later I was in her room grabbing some stuff off a bookcase that remained in there when I saw she left her phone at home. This of course is when I made probably the biggest mistake ever. I decided I was going to look at it, to see if she really “wanted time alone” of if there was another guy. I have no idea why I thought finding out either would do anything but tear me apart, but i acted long before I had a chance to talk myself out of it. 

Lets back up a bit.

I should’ve known something was a miss a long time ago. I think she’d been pushing me to let her go for a while. Back in October we were at a bar with some friends, and while she was off getting a drink, her phone lit up. I glanced at it and saw a guys name I didn’t know, and he said something with a winking emoticon. Curious, I picked it up and took a look. I found about two weeks worth of flirty and sexual texts, corresponding to a trip she took to Austin a few weeks prior. I felt like I’d been kicked in the chest. A painful panic overtook my body. I could feel tears well up, I felt my heart race, and it felt like lava ran through my veins. I wasn’t angry, so much as hurt, shocked, and confused. I confronted her about it, and it turned out to be some guy she knew from before. We awkwardly and politely excused ourselves from the bar, and went home to talk it out. During that time I found texts to her Ex-Boyfriend of a sexual nature (mostly comparisons between him and I, and not in my favor). Still, I was accepting, we talked about it, and she seemed to feel regret about it, and she seemed to not want to leave me, so we talked about how my trust was damaged, but how I wanted to repair it, but the ultimate problem was that she regretted getting caught in the act considerably more than the act itself.

Step forward a month.

We were lying in bed, each on our laptop’s, poking around on the internet before we went to sleep. She was on Reddit, and as I usually would, I leaned over and we’d read the comics together and laugh at the pictures. I noticed she had an account logged in, and I said “Oh, I see you finally decided to create an account, eh?” to which she quickly shot out “Oh, Uh, no I didn’t” and quickly closed her laptop and started getting ready for bed. Naturally at that point I looked her up, to find she’d been posting provocative topless pictures. Again, I felt the knife slip into my back, and turn. My guy filled with fire, and my thoughts began to race. I had trusted foolishly. When I confronted her about it her attitude was “Oh well I guess we need to break up then!” as opposed to any kind of remorse. These is not the actions of someone with my feelings in mind.

Forward another month to December.

She comes back from Austin the day after Christmas, and she’s acting strange. Distant. Wholeheartedly apathetic to me, and a little on the mean side. That evening, in the car, after we’d done some post holiday shopping, she tells me she’s intensely unhappy with me and that she wants to try life out on her own. I manage to talk her down, and we stayed together, and again, everything seemed fine.

Then on to January.

She comes back from Austin (noticing a trend?), and again, she’s Distant. Like she’s clearly upset with me, but won’t talk about it. I think I’ve surely done something wrong, so I go out of my way to be nice and to do things for her. That evening I went out and bought all of her favorite mexican food items, and I made a big meal of soft tacos, queso, taco meat, and Chicken Fajitas. After dinner she tells me she’s unhappy with me and that she wants to be on her own. This time around, I just feel beat. Like there’s no point in trying. I feel drained. My response boils down to a few half-hearted arguments, then the acceptance that we need to start splitting up our stuff. I ask her if I can keep the cats, as it would be very difficult for me to lose her and them. It would leave me without a support system. I ask her if its for another guy. She says no, but looks away. I ask her to look me in the eyes, and tell me its not another guy. She does. For the moment I’m satisfied.

This brings us to the stop up above.

When I look at her phone, against all better judgement, I see that guy from October. With sexual texts, and notes about how he can’t wait to see her again. It was awful. I can’t begin to describe it. I started hyperventilating. My blood seared my veins, my heart raced, and my vision blurred past a point of blindness. I screamed. I screamed for a long time. I punched through a door. I threw a few things. I hurriedly carted anything that could be argued to be mine out of her room, and brought anything that could be argued to be hers in. I stacked it on the floor. At one point I slammed the door hard enough that it inverted in the door frame, and I had to kick it back open. After moving all of her stuff around, I just paced the house. Unsure what to do. I decided that I didn’t need to be there when she got home, although I had a panic about not being there to defend the cats or my things. Although my primary concern was the cats. I left her a note explaining what I had discovered, and that I needed her things out by the first. I then left to go to a friends house.

I was a panicky mess there. I just knew something bad was going to happen. About 2 hours in a got a phone call from a screaming Emily, telling me how I’m not being fair. I explained that I felt she was calling the kettle black. She proceeded to just yell hurtful things at me. I hung up, again, worried about my cats and possessions. I paced around my friends apartment for a while. I slipped off to my car, claiming I wanted a cigarette, so I could have my little breakdown. She called me back, to yell at me more. I went into my friends and explained that until I saw what condition she left the house in, I was going to be a nervous wreck. So i left, and went home.

To my great relief I was greeted by two healthy cats when I came home. I went to my room to see my sheets had been torn off my bed, the mattress was off the box spring, and my acoustic guitar had been thrown to the floor. I picked everything up, and returned it to where it belonged. Nothing seemed to be broken. Ellum came in and meowed at me, so I picked him up and held him for a bit. He nuzzled against my face, and I found him to be the greatest comfort I could’ve hoped for. “Why does she have to be so mean?” I asked him again and again, although he just purred with equal confusion.

The next day went without incident. I stay as strong as I can. I told my aunt about her trashing my room, and she agreed we should have the locks changed. I called into work the next day so I could be home when the lock smith arrived. After that, I send Emily a text saying that her keys wouldn’t work. She texted back that I was threatening her safety and illegally evicting her. Both of which were news to me, but I resolved to be civil. She later seemed to resend both accusations anyway. She told me she wanted pro rated rent, which actually seemed like a reasonable request, although I somewhat regret it, since now she seems to be using me as a storage space, and she told me to be prepared for her to take Ellum. Which I of course denied. She kept saying she was going to take him, but I held my ground. I decided that she could not be trusted in the house if she was going to be hostile, so I packed up all of her stuff, and moved it to the garage, and locked the door. A few hours later she showed up at my door, pounding, and manically ringing the door bell. I went into the garage, locked the door, and met her there. She demanded the pro rated rent first, which I obliged. Then she ranted about how I’m an awful human being, and how nothing was fair. She mocked me for being hurt by her actions, and screamed that she never cared for me. Then she screamed like a child throwing a tempter tantrum, demanding I turn over Ellum. To which I calmly declined. She threatened to call the police, which I said was fine if thats what she felt needed to happen. After more screaming, and insults, and slurs, she left. I shut the garage door, and went back inside. Again, Ellum came to see me, and I picked him up and asked again “Why does she have to be so mean?” but he had no new wisdom to share.