12/23
I'm quite happy to be getting to see my boyfriend on Christmas Eve Eve. He's got a lot of drama and baggage in his life, and he's said before that I'm the only bright spot in his life. We flip flop effortlessly through playful bickering and moments of genuine insight. I've never felt like this before, so completely whole.
As usual, when there's nothing to do, Brent and I skip around hitting up business centers. For the uniformed, they're a devious scheme selling "internet time" in order to bypass laws regarding gambling. Why do I go to someplace so sketchy? Well because they give you a free dollar to play. Granted, this doesn't sound like much, but if in those four clicks you win any amount, you feel so accomplished. It's a little ridiculous, but generally you can at least get a couple dollars, depending on how many places you go. Twice so far I've won actual money, $114 dollars and $120something. The week before my birthday I won $43 in what Brent called "early birthday luck".
After we've played our turns (I made one dollar) we logged into facebook. Brent and I are locked in an epic battle of will over about four games of Words with Friends. It's a competition we take seriously. After volleying back and forth a few turns, Brent starts looking over his News Feed. Seeing a questionable status from a friend of his, he decided to send her a message. I was antsy, ready to get my dollar win and head out. I watched him type for a moment, then glanced up at the rest of the screen.
I'm dating two females. Alli N and Amanda H.
I felt like I was being stabbed with a thousand shards of freezing glass. I couldn't move. Betrayed. Destroyed. Alone.
We get out to the car, and I unleash my silent rage. Sometimes I question whether or not I have empathetic powers, because many people have told me they can feel when I'm upset.
Brent asks me if something's wrong, because my whole body language and tone of voice have changed. He can feel the tension in the air, he'd have to be a complete imbecile not to.
"I just think, maybe you should be a bit more careful what fucking messages you open in front of me..."
"Okay?"
"Brent, that shit was dated October 15th and it said 'I'm dating two females'. We started dating the 2nd. So you've been cheating on me."
He doesn't say anything for a long while. I'm crying, battling between wanting to completely break down and wanting to destroy every-fucking-fiber of his being. I'm Irish, which side do you think won out?
"What the fuck, are you just not going to say anything?"
He sighs, obviously trying to collect his thoughts. "If what that message meant, was what you think it meant, then yes this would be bad."
He does this, talks in riddles sometimes. Saying something without saying anything. I've never really noticed it until now.
"That doesn't make any goddamned sense Brent. Explain it to me."
He's flustered. We pull into a parking lot, I need fucking clarity, because I feel like I'm about to blackout.
He tries to explain again, this time saying that the message was about a rumor someone started about him.
Even as I say it, I realize I'm offering him an out, "So you're saying it was taken out of context?"
"Look at you, getting all philosophical on me. Yes baby, context. I love you."
I take a deep sigh of relief. My soul is temporarily calmed. As we continue on our bizzing (biz=business center) adventure, he's holding my hand, sneaking kisses. He's never this open about showing affection in public. We arrive at our last stop of the night. Play the free dollar. Log into Facebook. I look over, fully expecting Brent to do the same, but instead I see ESPN's website. I think about jokingly calling him out on it, but decide not to.
We're in the car when I make the difficult decision to hack his Facebook. I need to know what's in his inbox, or I'll never trust him. I'll even apologize if what he said was true, I justify to myself as I type in his password.
Messages. Click.
October 15th
Can you keep a secret?
Yeah.
I'm dating two females. Alli N. and Amanda H.
Blistering fury covers my body in waves, starting in the pit of my stomach and rippling out over me. I look through the rest of his messages, and find the long and detailed message log between him and Amanda H. I'm dying inside.
His fingers brush against my knee and he smiles at me.
"I'd prefer it if you didn't fucking touch me."
"Okay." He mumbles, confused. "Are you still mad at me?"
"I want to know why you lied to me." I grind out.
I swear he huffs.
"I'm not nearly as stupid as you think I am. I saw the messages Brent. 'Can you keep a secret?' You've been dating another girl behind my back. Don't even lie to me, because Amanda was messaging you as recently as December 20th."
He says nothing. I cry. We get to his house. Parked in the driveway for a paralyzingly long minute.
"Did you hack my Facebook?" He sounds angry.
This is ridiculous. I find out he's been cheating on me since day one, and he's mad that I played Veronica Mars on his ass?
"I don't have a fucking thing to say to you."
He storms off and heads into his house. I start driving home, sobbing, I couldn't have let him see me like this. I didn't want to be vulnerable. I call my best friend Kayla three times before she answers.
"Hello?" I can tell she was fast asleep.
My words, as well as my tears, quickly shock her awake. I give her the information she needs to log in to Brent's account. I can't believe I'm doing this, but I need to know what he said to her. What follows is a series of inappropriate sexual commentary and declarations of love for this girl. Kayla says she can't read anymore. I understand. I'm numb.
I get home and start the digging myself. I can't believe this man I gave my heart to has been playing me from the beginning. I update Brent's status for him.
I'm a lying sack of shit. I'm dating two girls at once.
I make sure to tag myself, as well as the other girl. I'm a bitch, I also don't give a fuck. Meanwhile, Kayla has typed out her own venomous rant and posted it to his wall. I love her.
I try to calm down, deciding to finish off a bottle of wine I had stashed in my room. I decide there's more I need to say to Brent. I'm not sure if he'll ever talk to me again, so this is my opportunity to say what I need to before he undoubtedly blocks me in the morning.
I hate you. You fucking broke my heart. I could've forgiven you if you'd just been honest. But clearly you've been playing me from the start. I hope you're happy, because you destroyed what was left of my confidence in humanity. I loved you so much, but I guess it wasn't enough. I thought you could have been the one, that shows you how stupid I've been.
I send it. I make a beeline for my back porch so I can smoke a cigarette. Hansel starts barking the minute I leave my room. It's about 3AM. I can't bring myself to care. I finish my cig and head back inside. My mom catches me in the foyer.
"Is something wrong? Hansel's been barking..."
I tell her what happened. I can't stop.
My mom consoles me through the night. Assuring me that no one in the family liked him anyway. It hurts my feelings more than it helps. I weather a sleepless night. Moments of peace, interrupted all too frequently by a splitting headache.
