A Guide To Ruining Relationships

At 21 I would sleep with a gun, wake up with a start at the smallest sound, and have unprovoked fight or flight responses that left loved ones wondering where they went wrong. My daily battle was to achieve normalcy but my mind was a constant reminder that things would never be “normal.” Better yet, my significant other (for the sake of the story, Derrick) began working the night shift which meant that I would be completely alone at the time of night when I was most volatile. For weeks after, I was lucky to get a couple hours of decent sleep. Any noise of footsteps traveling down the hall, doors opening and closing, or any crunching or twisting noise familiar to the crowbar breaking into my door would send me into a panic mode.

It started innocently enough. “We should meet up.” My first love (let’s call him Jack) and I had eight years worth of complicated history. Any normal person would have run away and never looked back. Feeling that I had nothing left to lose, I went, “Sure, let’s give this a go.” Derrick, Jack and I went out for drinks as I made attempts to downplay our former relationship. Just friends, all going out for a good time. That was exactly what I needed, some simple distraction. Everything seemed to be going fine until Derrick’s schedule changed and he began working from 9 in the evening to 6 in the morning.

That’s when my dumb self stated, “No worries. I’ll just go by myself then.”

Derrick knew that there was no point in trying to control me so he didn’t say anything about it. I didn’t realize it at the time but I also didn’t respect him. I didn’t have a reason to. The incident had reminded me that it was me vs. the world and that no one could ever change that. I was left feeling more alone than ever and Derrick had yet to reach out to me on a human level. The shocker was, going out drinking with Jack was one the only thing that put my mind at ease and helped me sleep. We would go out drinking until the bars closed at two in the morning. Then I’d drive him home and we would sit in the car for at least an hour, talking about anything and everything. I didn’t feel judged and for the most part I could leave my insecurities back at home, with the exception of one night. A bar fight broke out. Chairs were crashing in our direction, shattering glasses off the table. Fists were flying immediately to my right and I just stood there in awe of it all. Jack grabbed my waist trying to shuttle me out when I threw him off of me. I grimaced, “You don’t get to swoop in and save the day. I can handle myself.” It was about more than that. After everything we'd been through I didn't want to give him the satisfaction. I also needed to prove to myself that I didn't need anybody. Jack saw through all my bullshit. Anyone else would have had some hate speech waiting for me at the ready. He laughed it off with a, "You're something else," getting in the car as if nothing had happened.

Jack told me he loved me and I had convinced myself that he was confused. At the same time, I didn’t care what his motives were as long as I could get out of the apartment and get some rest. At that point I guess I was using him as much as he was using me. I’d come home at three or four in the morning, too shitfaced to think, and pass out on the bed. Even waking up at seven in the morning, it was the best sleep I’d had in a long time and I would go to work alert and focused. This was my clockwork dysfunction.

It ended with Derrick having a meltdown. His lack of human emotion while I was crying out for help only built up inside him, popping off at the last moment. He told me I was so dumb not to see what was right in front of me and that he felt there was nothing he could do. He knew that telling me no meant I would resent him trying to control me and I would just do what I wanted anyways. He told me how he’d go to work with an ache in his heart wondering why he wasn’t enough. That was all that I needed to hear. I blocked Jack on every means of contact and social media because I knew I didn’t have the self-control. I never spoke to him again.

If anyone had told me this story at surface level I would have thought to myself, "Wow, what an asshole," and went on a rant about cheating not being simply caught in the act. I can't help but wonder to myself if I wasn't in such a fragile mental state, would this have even happened? Would I have said no? Would I have let it get to the level that it did, exploding in my face? Better yet, why didn't Derrick just leave me? If someone did that to me, I'd change the locks and have all their personal belongings in a fiery burnt sacrifice on the lawn. I don't have any answers for that except that he's a better person than I could ever hope to be.

Photo Credit Ehud Neuhaus