It took me months to start to feel like a normal person again after the iceberg struck the ship A and I were sailing. When I finally started to crawl out of my hole, I felt like I had just been tossed out of a car door on the side of the street, in the gutter, with no idea where or who I am. And as soon as I was ready to re-enter the world, my friends were there, waiting to scoop me up and repair my damaged soul.
I started going out to bars once again and the vultures smelled fresh, wounded meat. I was the perfect prey. I was a damaged soul that didn’t remember I had any standards. The first vulture to land was the one who caught me.
Disappearing D treated me like shit. But I didn’t care, I was at my lowest and he knew he could.
I was a trained sexy monkey for him. He called and I came over. He pounded me and then smoked weed and passed out.
One night I came over, D pounded me and then left me in his apartment.
He left me a note.
“Will be right back.
I sat and waited.
For an hour.
Then I texted him.
He didn’t respond for another 30 minutes.
“Sry babe. Will be right back.” (Don’t worry, the “sry” issue will be addressed in another blog coming soon.)
Another hour went by. I entertained myself by swiping through Tinder.
I called him. He picked up and I said,
“When are you coming back? What should I do until you get back? I have no food. I don’t even know how to turn on the television.”
He said, “I’m so sorry, my friend is having a crisis and I won’t be back for awhile.”
I said, “what is awhile? It’s already been 2 and a half hours. Should I just leave?”
He said, “no babe, don’t leave. I’ll be back soon.”
And so I waited some more.
Texted him again.
Called him again.
So then I finally came to my senses and decided to leave (It was now almost 1:00am). I angrily grabbed all my stuff, vowed to never come back again and locked the door behind me.
It was as I heard the door clicking behind me that I realized I left my phone charger inside.
I looked down at my phone and saw I had only 6%.
Now I furiously started texting and calling him.
I drove home.
I continued to text him with the remaining juice I had left.
I got home and put my phone next to my pillow, knowing it would soon turn off.
As I was finally drifting off, my phone starts to vibrate.
He says he will be back by 2:30. It is now 1:30.
Now I am furious and I am texting him back so furiously I could have won a texting race.
I am counting down the seconds before my phone turns off, time is not to be wasted to rip him a new asshole.
I do not want to talk to him ever again. I’ve decided to buy a new charger in the morning and leave my old charger as the price of my stupidity. But for now, I must make him pay for his charger consolation prize.
My phone finally shut down on me.
I go to sleep and never talk to Disappearing D again.
All because of a phone charger, I was able to cut off a vulture.
Welcome back to the trenches.