THIS WEEKEND WAS ROUGH not only in the relationship department but just all around sucked. I had such high expectations going into it and I never hesitate doing so, but I was so off base this weekend it's shocking.
Let's start on Thursday Night... Fashion's Night Out in the thriving metropolis of Tulsa, Oklahoma. JFK has been geared up for this event for a few weeks, knowing full well the big brother introduction is inevitable. Despite his hesitation at points to be in a real live relationship, he handled it very well. He even met my mother... The night was good until dinner- without much thought he told me his plans to cook out with some co-workers on Saturday. Hmmm.... That's funny, we have plans for Saturday.
This brings on a bit of a heated conversation, in which I express had he acknowledged the change but said this was something he really wanted/needed to do and offered up an alternative to the time we would have been together-NBD. Anyway, night goes on, ends fine.
Friday... We talk and I know he has a golf game but it's Kiki's Birthday and there is a big party. I asked him weeks in advance to go with me. He said he would call and meet up after golf. Rainstorm and a nap later, I bail on the party myself. Being recently unemployed and trying to have a little sense with the few dollars I have until I start a new job, bar hopping is not the wisest move for me. JFK is MIA anyway, so I just relax at the house and go to be early.
1:15am, the phone rings it's JFK. He has no idea I bailed on the party and is wondering where I am, we were going to "meet up" remember... Bars close in 30 minutes. I am dead to the world until this revelation that he's been out all night partying with the guys. So much for our plans, because when I hear "I'll call you after my golf game" and the golf game gets rained out by 7:45, I expected him to call well before 1am.
"Pick your battles, Sunshine, this is not where you want to put your flag in the sand," says the voice in my head that sounds remarkably like my best friend Tia. Since, I am now wide awake and assume he is on Brookside a block from my house, I call him at 2 to tell him to come over. When he calls back 10 minutes later, he is already crossing the bridge to his house, so that's out. We chat for a few and the last thing he says to me is "I'll call you in the morning. We'll figure out tomorrow."
Saturday... I wake up in a decent mood. Text JFK a Good Morning text at 10:30, thinking I can make breakfast we can knock out some time together this gorgeous day and he can be free for his cook out later. I'm such a sweet girlfriend. 11:30 no response, I think I will call this is a great idea. No answer, left a funny message. 1:30 and I have still not heard anything, at this point I am a little frustrated and wonder what he is doing that he isn't responding to me. I send the text, he knows I am on the verge of anger, a wise man would take heed this warning, "Seriously, call me back."
FOUR THIRTY in the afternoon, still nothing... This kid has a god damn death wish at this point. Now, I am not an idiot, I know I should have text one time and never reached out again but I thought I was pretty cool to be some what OK with the fact that he completely blew off our weekend plans, so calling when he said he would isn't that much to ask. Last call, voicemail, "J-F-K this is SUNSHINE, you need to return my call." NOTHING.
My high school best friend comes in town, drags me off my couch for a few drinks at a couple bars. I get home, I am still livid but have had enough to sleep. Wake up, 8am and I am on the verge of a freaking panic attack. I cannot believe this dickhead has had the audacity to fucking ignore me. I'm done. I now just want to talk so I can tell him how done I am with his immature ridiculous ass.
I have to get out of this house, I need to clear my head, the walls are closing in the tears are forming, the disrespect with which I have been treated over the past 24 hours is at the forefront of my mind as well as the certainty that this relationship is OVER. Take a xanex, get in the car, head to the river, I need to walk and get my thoughts together.
Then, to add insult to injury on my quest for serenity, I fucking hit something in the middle of the road, dead on, didn't see it. Pull over and my car is jacked! It pulled this plastic piece off which is now dragging, I can see how to put it on but the trusty pink screw driver is not in my car. Dammit. Call JFK, he answers and I literally say, "I am so fucking pissed at you but I can't deal with that right now, I just hit something and need some help." After a short conversation about where I am and what I hit and a few idiotic suggestions of what I do about it later, I finally say, "or you can drag your lazy ass out of bed grab a Phillip's head screw driver and come fucking help me."
As soon as I see him I am in a rage, I am beyond frustrated by the car situation, and the fact that JFK has been such a dick I want to stab him with a screw driver. He fixes my car and I ask, what the hell happened to him yesterday. He literally owns up to the fact that he knew I was mad and it was a real chicken-shit move but he just chose not to call me back. I let him know how utterly disrespectful that is pointing out that he would never treat his friends that way, so why is it ok to do that to me.
This whole thing spawns the beginning of a conversation we don't have time to finish because of his impending tee time. So I will have to wait until later...
