The Story of Us

Fifteen

August 14th. I hate getting to this part of the story. My grandma wasn't feeling well so my aunt took her to the hospital. Turns out she was internally bleeding and needed blood transfusions. The hospital said it was a good thing she was there otherwise she might not have survived.

And yet, someone in my family took the opportunity to yell at me. Well, they complained to my mom who complained to me.

Back in June, Stephen and I had stored his old bedroom furniture in my grandma's garage and had only planned to have it there for a few months until our terrible roommate moved out. Anyways, I asked him mid-July if we could move it back into the apartment since the roommate was gone and he said that he needed to borrow his dad's truck, but he never did.

After a month, one of my aunt's complained to my mom about us using my grandma's garage as a storage unit. So my mom told me that she was getting bitched at and in turn I let him know, to which he replied "at this point I'm just gonna fucking give it away...we have fucking nowhere to put it..." I mean, we had that bedroom back but the new roommate apparently didn't want the furniture. So why were we holding on to it then? Good question, I still don't know either. I told him either way we need to move it. His response? "Go take pictures of it for me and ill post it online somewhere". As if I wasn't also at work. I sent him a screenshot of a text from my mom to which he blew up. Below are his messages for your reading pleasure:

4:56PM: dude i get it...im on it..

5:03PM: dads going to pick it up 630 like it or not its leaving today

5:04PM: last time i take any help from ur family...this is too much of a headache

5:04PM: im gonna meet him at magnolia park then take him to ur grandmas house grab the shit and leave

I told him nobody is there, she is in the hospital. And the tirade continued.

5:04PM: someone needs to be there cuz we're getting it tonight

5:04PM: figure it out

5:06PM im not gonna get bitched at then told cant get it today

5:06PM: get a key and be there

So I called my mom, in tears, because I didn't know what to do. I mean, should I have not told him my mom was getting chewed out by her sisters about his shit being in the garage? But if I didn't tell him, would things ever change? Yes, my family sucks but I was stuck being a middle man. I had no control. My mom texted him telling him he can't go, because nobody is there since my grandma is in the hospital. He blew up on her, too. She called his dad and told him not to come. That night, I went home, packed a bag, and stayed at my dad's house. The next morning I got a text that read "u never came home?".

I came home at lunch to grab some stuff I forgot, and the dog came running at me, causing me to spill soda everywhere. Luckily, I caught the dog, and texted him letting him know. His reasoning was that the dog must've pushed the cage open. The dog had my wrist brace on the floor and was chewing on it. When I told him about that, his excuse was "you can't leave things at puppy height" and "he's a baby that doesn't know better". My brace had been on the kitchen table. Strings to my kitchen chair cushions were now missing too.

I decided after work to come back to the apartment to hopefully talk about what happened the day before and attempt to fix things. I was laying in our bed when I texted him that I wanted to talk. He came in to join me. I vented about everything. How the situation with my grandma was stressing me out, how I had a rough day at work, how I felt about the way he talked to me the day before. I got everything off my chest. When I was done, I asked if he had anything to say to which he quickly responded "nope." We laid there in awkward silence. When I finally asked how we could fix this weird tension between us, he responded "I don't know, you're the therapist. You figure it out". In case you're wondering, I am NOT a therapist. I had just graduated with my bachelors in May. On top of that, a relationship takes two people. We sat there again, stewing in the tense silence until I finally broke. I decided I was not going to sit there and be sad when I could get things done. So, I got up, put on my shoes, and decided I was going to go pick up my medications that he ironically thinks I wasn't taking. Anyways, when I tell him I am leaving, this man has the audacity to tell me "Fine. Go ahead and run away like you always do." I'm sorry, what?! When was the last time I ran from him? I am the one who tried to have this conversation to fix things but he was refusing to say anything of substance. He was the one who shut down. He was the one who was running away. Sure, I physically went to my father's house for the night to give him some space. Was that wrong of me? I was really hurt and wasn't sure what would come pouring out of my mouth if I saw him that night. But I wasn't running away from our relationship or even our issues in the end. He was the one who always ran. Let's recap:

July 3, 2019: He dumped me in his driveway because I wouldn't get out of my car when he angrily demanded I do because allegedly he wanted a hug but never stated that.

June 2020: He told me I am around too much and he needed space. Again, he dumped me.

August 2021: I said something on Snapchat he took the wrong way. I wanted to come over and explain better in person. He refused. Again, he dumped me.

I may physically put space between us on occasion but note that in the four years we were together, never once did I actually give up on us. It was always him that was running away from me, from our relationship.

I'm surprised I didn't snap. I let that comment roll off my back, along with tears stinging my eyes. Once I was ready to leave and headed towards the door, he opened his mouth one more time, just to keep digging into me.

"You know, the only reason I don't care more about your grandma is because when my grandma wasn't doing well, you said I was using her as an excuse."

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and left. I felt the tears escaping and I didn't want to say things I knew I would regret later, although now I do wish I would've stood up for myself.

Let's revisit his grandma drama, shall we? As I previously mentioned, his mother was paying a caregiver to take care of his grandmother when she wasn't home, yet he felt the need (or maybe was told to?) to stay home and listen to the caregiver via baby monitor. Every time I explain this story, I try to put it like this. Imagine we were married and had kids, I got us a babysitter but I told you to stay home "just in case". So I get to live my life, and I am paying this babysitter, but you have to make sure she's properly doing her job. Do you think that's fair? He told me he couldn't go places or to events because he had to stay home, but the caregiver was there. It really did feel like he was using it as an excuse to get out of these things. And I'm pretty sure that is how I worded it, because that's how I say it every time I talk about this situation. It FELT like an excuse. I didn't say flat out he is using her as an excuse. It just felt that way.

Anyways, I ran to my car, tears streaming down my face. I texted him "If all you can see is my mistakes, then maybe we have bigger problems." to which he responded, "maybe we do..." Was he admitting that all he can see are my mistakes? I felt a little tinge of hope, though. Maybe we can overcome these issues. I replied "So what do you want to do? Obviously me trying to lead a conversation for us led nowhere. Therapy or...?" It took him three minutes to respond.

"Therapy? lmao I can't afford that."

This stung for multiple reasons. First, it felt like an excuse. A way out. It felt like he was trying to say therapy was out of the question. And what really hurt is he said he couldn't afford it. I wouldn't expect him to foot the bill all on his own for couples therapy but the part that really got me is he didn't even check how much therapy would be. He didn't even try. He just decided that it would be "too expensive" and that was it.

In an attempt to save our floundering relationship, I told him my insurance would cover it. When he didn't reply for another two minutes I messaged again, "It's up to you. I can't force you to do therapy with me but honestly idk what to do anymore."

Another two minutes passed before he finally responded, "and when do either of us have time?" Fair question, considering I was working two jobs. But I knew he usually had weekdays off, and weekdays I would only work my full-time job. Regardless, I replied "After work?" Another 3 minutes pass and he replied, "idk". I remind him it's up to him and that he can help pick the therapist. He said he didn't care about who the therapist was and changed the conversation to the dog.

A little while later, I tell him have a good night, he responds "u too". I tell him my dad is keeping his house toasty to which he replies that he has the ac cranked up. A little piece of anger flashes through me when I remember him yelling at me not too long ago to stop using the dishwasher and ac because the electric bill is too high.

I can't stand double standards.