You’re fucking pissed.
Your heart is racing, you feel hot and you’re looking for the least damaging thing in the house to put your fist through. After what seems like an eternity of arguing back and forth, you walk out the door so that you don’t do something stupid that will land you in jail.
She’s a savvy sniper. She picks her shots well; your friends, your job, your lack of commitment, how you don’t talk about your feelings enough, your prospects in life, your mother (or father), your sexual past. She knows exactly what buttons to push. As you look in her eyes, you see a gleam of crazy that dares you to do something.
You’re outside smoking a cigarette- or three. You’re gulping down that 20 year old Scotch like it’s water. You’re shaking. Desperately putting aside thoughts that seem to stem from some Cormac McCarthy character who dances near the brink of sociopathic.
You’re rewinding the nights arguments and then all the other fights you’ve had. And it’s all over stupid shit. You curse yourself for having taken what should have been a one night stand onward to the broken toxic relationship you are trapped in now. You’re mind is racing; thinking to yourself how to extricate yourself from this shit and move on.
But you doubt yourself and you question your reality. “Is it me? Am I really a selfish asshole like she says? Am I crazy?”
The thought of ending the relationship seems so heavy and lethal. You think to yourself, “All my stuff is here./ Her friends are my friends now-what will happen?/ How can I get my shit out without pulling up to a huge fireball in the parking garage one night?/ etc. etc”
This is the enemy. Not all women, but this woman. They are good at getting what they want and even more effective at breaking you down and making you doubt yourself.
Let me tell you something. This is an indisputable FACT.
MOST OF MANKIND’S GREATEST ACHIEVEMENTS CAME FROM THE MINDS OF GREAT MEN.
MOST OF MANKIND’S GREATEST TREACHERY CAME FROM THE MINDS OF WOMEN WITH ANTI SOCIAL PERSONALITY DISORDERS.
And you’ve been living with one.
What do you do?
If you’ve been like most men, you have a lot of personal things in the house. Your “stuff”. This is where you really have to be like a laser and focus on the task at hand. What exactly do you need? You need a few changes of clothes and shoes, a suit for work (if you wear one), your laptop, phone, and possibly that nice camera you hardly use for anything but travel pics. You need your DL, passport, bank cards and SS/birth certificate.
That’s it. Go put all that in an overnight bag. Calmly and quietly (as she will be screaming and throwing a hysterical bitch fit) look her deep in the eyes (as if to say “I know who you are now”) and tell her “I wish you the best of luck.”
And walk out the door. Say nothing. Do nothing. Just walk out the door.
Leave the crappy furniture you contributed to the apartment, the guitar you hardly play, your favorite DVDs and music cd’s (don’t you have an mp3 player yet?), the clothing you’ve accumulated over the years, leave the photo album ( you should have scanned and backed them all up on your hard drive), leave you favorite cologne, your towels, etc.
LEAVE EVERYTHING. You have in your hand all that you need. All the other stuff you leave behind is just remnants of your consumerist nesting self that your girlfriend tried to nourish for her own security. It’s just stuff. If you can’t live another day without it, you can buy more.
You’re now free to start fresh. Clean slate. New horizons.
There was no begging on your part, no negotiating with crazy, no histrionics, no forgiveness asked, no stupid concessions made, no sleeping on the couch, no withholding of sex. The acidic words you wanted to spit out at her never left your lips. You took the high road. You were the adult. You were Clint Eastwood in Pale Rider.
You leave with your dignity intact.
Now, the question is, what are you going to do with that new freedom?
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