I swear to whomever that my life is a damn soap opera. I really can’t say anything more than that. The last month of my life could have very well been a years worth of Days of Our Lives episodes. First my boyfriend starts fucking up, big time. A years worth of bullshit blows up one night when I’m drunk on a bottle of Bicardi Limon. I finally clear my chest over the big issues that are bothering me, like the year of compulsive lies. The fucking up with money. The irritation of not helping with anything. The fucking jail time. Everything. So I cut him off. We’re done.

Fast forward an awkward week of living together. Not knowing what to say or do. Trying to stay friends, but keep distance. Of course his fucking up doesn’t stop. Ending one Friday ago I catch him calling another chick. Yep, we weren’t “together”, although he made a promise to me to get himself better and NOT talk to any other girls so we could eventually work things out and get our family back together. So as he rushes out the door for a night out with the boys, I check his phone calls online for his cell phone, where of course I find some mysterious numbers. Which I internally battle on whether or not I should call. The battle to call wins and I find a chick on the other end. In fact a chick he used to work with back in Februray who he swore to me was a fat lazy piece of shit he hated. HMMMMM. So yep, I ruin his night out by blowing up his phone and telling him he promised to be faithful to me, and go to counseling for his lying and depression which in turn gets me angrier so I pack up his stuff, leave it by the front door and tell him not to come home, as I’m getting more and more drunk on tequila and peppermint schnapps.

So he really doesn’t come home, spending the night at his friend C’s house. I call him in the morning and he comes home and we have another “heart-to-heart”. I go out that night, where I play referee to my best friend and HER man basically fist fighting the whole night, while also trying to get my drink on at the bar. Good thing my phone died or else my boyfriend would have been blowing it up all night

So the following day after my boyfriend (herein refered to as P) picks me up and takes me back home is spent recouping from no sleep and possibly a slight hangover. By the end of that day we decide to truly work things out, were we will officially be back together, he goes to his counseling and I continue to clock him.

Oh, and now I’m in a mini fight with my brother’s girl. Yay. Maybe I should just keep my mouth shut. :X

Posted: December 16th, 2007 under soap opera.
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