Go Fuck Thyself

Fuck You and all Your Bullshit

I storm into the flower shop my heart pounding in my chest and head clouded with rage. Taking twenty bucks out of my back pocket I slam it on the counter making the few people in the shop jump.

"How do I passive-aggressively say fuck you in flowers?" I say through gritted teeth.

"Oh um, well all flowers have meanings behind them. Lets see you would need geraniums (stupidity), foxglove (insincerity), meadow sweet (uselessness), yellow carnations (you have disappointed me), and orange lilies (hatred). It will look quite striking and will be full of loathing." The old lady giving me a knowing look turns around to find the flowers needed for the bouquet of hatred.

"Can you hurry up please??"

"Now, now it takes time to make a bouquet so full of hate. From the way your talking to me I'd say this bouquet is for yourself."

"Your an ass. It's for the boy who just fucking dumped me!"

"Excuse me! That is no way to talk to anyone young lady! I suggest you shut your mouth before I decide to not make this for you at all and kick you out fine my store."

"Fine"

I turn around clenching my hands into fists my nails digging into the palms of my hands. Surveying the store I try to calm myself by taking deep breaths and naming all the different flowers to distract my brain from him, Levi, the devil himself. Dahlia. God, he was utter perfection. What the hell went wrong?! Marigold. We were ok one moment and then the next he was yelling at me like and throwing things. Peony. Tulip. Ouch. My bruises still hurt. Ugh! Shut up brain! Shut up! I stomp my foot, mad at my failed attempt at distraction and turn back to the counter where the lady is tying a rubber band around all the flowers and putting them into a jar.

"Your bouquets all done now," she says acknowledging my existence again,"Who gave you that nasty black eye?"

"No one."

I take the bouquet off the counter and start to walk out of the store but am stopped by the lady.

"I'm sorry. About your boyfriend. He's the one with an ugly heart, not you."

"It doesn't matter"

Getting to my car I put the flowers in the passenger seat and light a cigarette. They are the only thing that will take my mind off him. Of course they will also probably kill me but hey, if they do I won't be complaining. I kick up my feet on the steering wheel and pick at my beat up Converse. After a long final inhale of smoke I extinguish my cigarette bud and toss it onto the street outside my car window. I roll up my jacket sleeves and examine the bruises on my arms. There's two large hand print bruises on my wrists where he grabbed me as I tried to get away and then there's one on my abdomen from where he kick me down when I yelled in his face. There's the black eye he gave me too, this one I can't hide. I can't pretend like nothing happened when I have a dark purple and blue ring around my eye. It's not that I want to hide it from others it's that I want to hide it from myself and pretend like none of that ever happened in the first place. Closing my eyes I put my keys in the ignition and drive back to that damned house of his.

I stare up at the second floor window, the one where most of my belongings was thrown out of when he kicked me out of is house. It feels like it takes an hour for me to walk up the carpeted stairs to his apartment but once I arrive at his door my head is clear. Placing the flowers carefully on the Welcome rug I pull maroon lipstick from my purse. I decorate his door in lipstick drawings of dicks and in the middle in bold I write Fuck you! Love, E. I step back admiring my work of art and drop the empty lipstick container next to the jar of flowers.

"He's going to love this." I mutter sarcastically to myself and laughing turn away from the door taking the stairs two at a time.

And now was the time to wait safely in my mustard orange punch buggy for the time that he came home and the whole street will be able to hear is screams of utter rage. I open the passenger seat compartment and pull out my Walkman and headphones setting it to track one, "Surfer Girl" by the Beach Boys. Reclining my seat back I raise the volume and sing way out of pitch swaying my head back and forth. As the hours go by the sky becomes a swirl of grey and white clouds but eventually the grey takes control of the sky and rain falls in pitter patters on the street around me making the car grow cold. He's probably found some bitch to replace me with already. Shut up. Or maybe he jumped off a fucking bridge. Wouldn't that be nice? Shut up. Or a car crash.

"Shut the fuck up!!" I yell not being able to take my brains bullshit anymore tears welling in my eyes.

I hear the familiar grumble of his motorcycle coming around the corner and sit bolt upright. My heart beats faster and faster and my windpipes close up. He comes into my view through the raindrops on my car and there he is in that goddamn leather jacket, charcoal hair slicked back looking like a god. He may look like a god Ellie but you know he's the devil. He dismounts his motorcycle and shakes his rain, damp hair then enters the building where my surprise is waiting for him. Rolling down my window I hold my breath and wait to hear his wrath.

"That bitch! I should have known that whore would pull some shit like this!!" His curses shoot like missiles down from the building making heads on the street turn and leaving me in fits of laughter and sobs.

A door slams and I can see him through his window pacing back and forth the jar of flowers in his hands. Fuck. He spots me in my car, walk to his window and chucks the flowers onto the empty sidewalk below the glass shattering into a million different pieces. He disappears and another door slams. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. The front door of the building bursts open as he storms out nose flaring like a bulls. I frantically restart my car as he stares me down waiting for the traffic to clear so he can get to me. I pull out of my parking spot and slide off down the road the curses spewing from his mouth following me.

Finally back at my own apartment I kick off my Converse and let out a long breath. My apartment is small so it only takes me a few strides to get to the kitchen where I turn on the tea kettle. I strip down to only my underwear, bra, and socks but chills run down my spine, so I slip on a sweatshirt. To my delight and dismay the only thing left for me to eat is microwave mac&cheese so for the third day in a row I pop the pasta in the microwave and stand there watching the seconds go by. College is a drag and kills my anxious mind filling my desk with all the imperfect drafts of midterm essays. I brush the papers aside and they land on the floor leaving enough space for my bowl and mug of tea. Opening my laptop I start on draft #17 of my psychology midterm paper of how anxiety effects people's ability to learn.

It's 1:00 a.m. and the glow of my computer and desk light are the only things providing me with any sort of vision in my near pitch black apartment. I rub at my aching eyes and finally shut my laptop. I stumble to my bed not nothing to try to take care of my personal hygiene. My blankets are soft and comforting and as my head sinks into my pillow my eyes flit open and shut until sleep finally takes me.

6:00 a.m. and I'm up again my alarm obnoxiously blaring in my ear. Groggily I lift my hand and slam it down on the alarm which only leads to it falling to the floor further out of my reach. Fuck. Stumbling out of bed I fall to the floor grabbing the alarm clock finally silencing it.