The Break-Up Guy – Survived by Sarah

WHO: An ex-boyfriend who shall continue to remain nameless​

WHAT: The worst breakup I’ve ever been through

WHEN: January 2008

WHERE: Grass Valley, CA

WHY: Because life hates me.

THE BREAKUP
So I’d been dating this guy for about 3 or 4 months, but things had gotten real serious real quick. We said I love you after 7 days. He had already had me make a safe sex circle space, and he’d had a psychotic break the night before I had to testify against my dad in court.

Think it can’t get much worse? Oh, it totally does.

After he was released from his 72 hour involuntary hold in the mental hospital, he and I kept dating. Because apparently I’m not very smart. But we had some lovely moments together, and I needed someone around to make me feel not alone. We had our makeup picnic since our previous one was derailed by his mental illness. He commissioned a local artist to make me a blanket, which I’m fairly certain I have since gotten rid of.

I was slowly recovering from having to testify and we’d made it through the holidays, but the trial was coming to a close. January 5th 2008 was set as the day of sentencing, which also happened to be my dad’s birthday. In years past our family had always celebrated by eating Mexican food because that was his favorite. My mom would make a giant pile of tequitos and my dad would make his famous salsa, which I have still not to this day found one I like as much.

But this year, there wouldn’t be any celebrating. This year I would hear him sentenced to prison for murder with no awareness of whether or not I was hungry.

I knew the day was coming, and I dreaded it. Obviously.

My boyfriend and I had been having issues. He was selfish and he wasn’t present. He couldn’t handle when shit got real, and things in my life were heavy and very real. He hadn’t seemed to be fully engaged in our relationship for a couple weeks, and I was growing tired of feeling like I was walking on eggshells around him. My mom had always done that with my dad, and I refused to be like them. I wanted to be happy.

So on the eve of my dad’s murder sentencing I asked my boyfriend, “Do you even want to be with me? I want to be with someone who actually wants to be with me.” He told me he did not and he walked out.

He called me later to “see how I was doing.” What a giver.

I informed him I wasn’t doing great, and also maybe not so politely informed him that he had the worst timing in history.

He appeared to have forgotten what I was up against the next day, but once I reminded him he didn’t see it that way. He thought he was helping me. He told me he thought I needed to stand on my own two feet and leaving me would help me do that.

I told him he could have waited another day or two until I was done going to court. I told him even if he didn’t love me, any normal person with emotions would have waited. Because he thought so highly of himself, he said, “I will still go with you and sit next to you as your friend.” He then adamantly asked for his LOST DVDs back that I had borrowed.

For the second time in our short relationship, I was up all night sobbing and dry heaving with sorrow while wearing one of his sweaters. And for the second time I began to steel myself for court.

On my way to the courthouse, I had to meet up with him to return his fucking LOST DVDs. As if that was the most important thing at that moment. I knew the second I saw him that even though I had convinced myself that I loved him, it was going to be easy to teach myself to hate him soon.

I went to court in a daze. The one thing I will give this guy credit for is taking the edge of awareness off some of the worst days I’ve had to endure. I was so focused on him and my sorrow and so sleep deprived that I didn’t fully have to coherently experience facing my dad in court.

But that’s all the credit he gets.

After I saw him I went to the courthouse. Hardly aware of what I was doing, I stood up during the proceedings and gave a speech to my dad I now don’t remember. He was sentenced to life in prison and my ex-boyfriend had a new girlfriend within days. She worked at the coffee house he and I had our first date at. It was our spot. We used to go there together and write and read and just be.

So. There’s that story. Fuck him.