The whole time I was in Mississippi, Patrick and I were arguing. It would escalate so much that he’d go in the other room and give me the silent treatment for the rest of the night. The arguments weren’t even that serious, but Patrick just couldn’t let shit go. The breaking point was the night we went to a party hosted by his frat brother. This was when everything went left.

We got to the party early, which was perfect. I was able to break the ice by helping the women decorate the house before all the guests arrived. The women were pretty cool and I could tell that there was a fun night ahead of us. Even though Patrick and I had gotten into it right before the party (over something so dumb, I don’t even want to disclose it) and drove two hours in silence, he started speaking to me again once we arrived. I was worried that this evening was going to be awkward and uncomfortable for me, but initially we were enjoying ourselves. We danced, drank and laughed with his friends and everybody was extremely welcoming. 

The latter part of the night I noticed that Patrick was constantly on his phone. I could see he was having a deep conversation and it was damn near midnight, so who was he talking to? We were at a party and I didn’t know anybody, so it pissed me off that he wasn’t paying attention to me. I started to get curious about who he was talking to so I glanced over at his phone and found out it was Lula, some bitch I had NEVER heard of. He continued to text her, so I sarcastically said “So you’re just going to be on your phone all night?” After I said that he instantly went to his friends to tell them what happened, which made me feel completely uncomfortable. He had an attitude the rest of the night and it wasn’t until an hour later when he was ready to go. We got in the car and he had the audacity to be texting this chick while driving us home at 1am! I was furious, but I had no energy to argue like we had been doing the last four days so I didn’t say anything. I attempted to fall asleep and tried to hide my tears.

The next day I brought up him texting Lula and all hell broke loose. He put it all on me and brought up how I shouldn’t have been peeping over at his phone and how my insecurities are ruining our relationship. He said that if I trusted him it wouldn’t matter who he was texting and at what time. We went back and forth for hours until he ended up saying that I was “crazy” and he didn’t want to be with me anymore. He went downstairs to sleep on the couch and I cried my eyes out for hours begging him to relax and come back upstairs to bed. He kept telling me that he was done and that everything was my fault.

I felt so stupid and pathetic. Even though I felt disrespected, I felt like my insecurities had just made me loose the best thing that’s ever happened to me. He was such an ass, but when we were good, it was so good. After begging and pleading until 4am, I ended up going to bed. He eventually joined me in bed but acted like I wasn’t even there.

I had came all the way to Mississippi to spend time with my boyfriend and now in less than 10 hours, I would be on a flight back to California single.

I didn’t know what to do. I wanted the last few hours I was with him to be good, not like this. But no matter what I did, he wasn’t trying to hear it. He yelled at me to leave him alone and I had no choice but to comply. 

The next morning we woke up and it was so awkward. We moved around each other to get ready and he didn’t say a word to me. All he did was look at me with utter disappointment. He drove me to the airport and it was silent until we started arguing yet again. Once we got there, he didn’t even want to hug or kiss me. I forced him to and then I proceeded to walk into the airport. This was the most depressing goodbye I had ever had. I walked through the airport in tears and proceeded to go through TSA. Were we really done? The thought made me feel sick to my stomach. I got home and went into a deep depression that lasted for about a month and a half (Check out my blog What if I Jumped Into Lake Merritt? to read about the depression I experienced). 

I should of been done with him after that, but I wasn’t ready to let go…

TO BE CONTINUED…