“I’ll just sleep in my car.”

So quick update from yesterdays blog:

She promised up and down before she left, “I’ll be home by 10:00 baby, I swear. Sunny has to work tomorrow morning, so I promise, 10:00 p.m. no later.” … and … “I won’t drink that much babe, don’t worry. We’re just gonna walk around a bit and come back.”

Uh huh.

The last text I got from her was at 8:35 p.m. and then a vague one at 11:22 p.m. stating “I swear I’m tryin to get Sunny to go babe.”

Mind you that’s already almost an hour and half past when she “swore” she would be home, yet she’s roaming around a nightclub 3 hours away at Dinah Shore.

Fast forward a couple hours to where she’s driving home and calling me every few seconds. Which I just hit the “ignore” button, 61 times.

I think the night can be fully explained if I just let you read a few text messages:

By 1:30 a.m. I sent her this: You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.

A few minutes later she replied: I’ll sleep in my car.

To which I wrote: You’re an ass.

Remi: OK

Which of course that INFURIATED me. OK?!!!!! That’s all she had to say??!!! How dare she!
So I texted her this: Sleep in your car I really don’t care anymore.

OK you can see how this was going.

She came home, came in threw up. Grabbed the blanket and pillow I had waiting for her in the living room and proceeded to sleep in her car.

I tried to go to sleep but couldn’t. Part of me was worried about her. Part of be felt sorry for her. Part of me just couldn’t sleep anymore without her next to me. But the largest part of me was FUCKING PISSED at her and wanted her to stay out there.

I went out there, yelled at her about how dare she break her promise to me and not even have the common courtesy to let me know she was going to be so late. Then I wrestled her for her car keys because it had the house key on there, made her take it off and give it to me.

Stormed back in the house after slamming her car door/bedroom door for the night as hard as I could.

I had worked myself up into such a state I called her and said, “You might want to start looking for some place else to live.” Click.

Yep. This was going well.

It was quickly spiraling out of control and even though I wanted to start crying and tell her she had worried the fuck out me, I was too angry to show any vulnerability or caring.

I went back out there, but instead of yelling at her I sat there and gave her the  silent treatment and then threw the key at her. Got out and came back in the house.

I know, I know …. mature.

A few minutes later she came in. I could hear her in the spare room (that we use as a huge walk in closet and doesn’t have any furniture in). I knew she was going to try to sleep on the hard floor with nothing more then the blanket and sheet I left out for her.

I might be cold hearted sometimes but I’m not a bitch. I went in there and found my girlfriend with a wet head from the shower, bloodshot eyes that looked like she’d either been hurling or crying or both, curled up on the floor with the lights still on.

I got her up on her feet and brought her back to bed. We really didn’t say much. By now the sun was almost coming up. So we slept.

We woke up this morning a little calmer. We talked it out and after making her think about how she would have felt had she been in my position she admitted she probably would have taken it even further and driven down there to find me.

She apologized.

I accepted.

Sort of. I’m not mad, but I’m certainly not happy yet either.

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