Love Me So I Don't Have To - COMPLETED

2.2

Today is his birthday. I remember what I was doing exactly a year ago. I was with him and his family at Chile's. That was the second time I had been to that restaurant since I moved after Katrina.

One year and fifteen days. That's how much older he is than me. He tried to argue with some stupid logic.

I still kind of remember what I got him. Nevermind. Not really. I know I got him a book; I think a survival guide. I also got him one of those weird metal puzzle things, a back scratcher, and maybe something else. I think something else. I'm not sure.

I remember how uncomfortable I felt around a bunch of family of his I had yet to meet. All the aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents. I felt they were secretly judging me, to be honest. I was so nervous, I almost wanted to puke.

The next day was our seven month anniversary. I don't remember what happened that day.

God, I fucking hate how I still remember his stupid fucking birthday. I hate how I remember anything about him.

I fucking hate it so fucking much, that fucking asshole piece of shit. Fuck him.

I'm glad I don't remember what he got me for my birthday. I'm glad I don't remember that day at all. I'm glad I don't remember the car ride back home with him. I'm glad I don't remember the car rides with him on his birthday. I'm glad I don't remember.

The more I think about this, the more I wish I couldn't remember the whole eleven months with that bitch. I wish every memory I still have stored in my brain involving him was just erased and forgotten. I fucking wish. I wish so bad, so hard, so much.

Why in the ever-loving hell did the fact his disgusting ass turned a year older just stick with me today? I wish he couldn't. Why do I have to remember?

Three minutes until tomorrow.