Posted 13 February 2007 - 10:39 PM
I'm not sure exactly how interesting this story will be too many people in this thread, but I feel like telling it. It is very rare for me to be honest with the people in my life or even myself for that matter, and I think this is a good opportunity to do so. There won't be any fake dialogue or situations, and it isn't funny in the goofy sort of way that many of my previous stories have been. That isn't to say that the situation doesn't lend itself to humor, but that isn't the main purpose here. My story starts about a month ago on the day when Jen and I usually celebrate our yearly anniversary. This would be the second. For me the relationship had been in a steady decline. For the most part she didn't have a clue. I don't talk much about how I feel. We woke up that morning and started arguing right away. I hadn't really prepared anything special for the day partly because I didn't care much at that point, and partly because I'm a very lazy person. She was on my case about it, and rightly so. We went to The Green Burrito for lunch. I had the taco salad, and she had the nachos while we discussed our plans for the day. The beef was dry. In the end we decided to head on down to the beach for a while and then eat at a nice Italian place I found online. On the drive back to our house to get ready I began to resent her more and more for various strains she put on my life, the prominent one at the time being that I was broke and the evening would use up the last of the money in my bank account when payday was still a full week away. Of course, being myself I didn't tell her any of this. Instead I just blurted out that I was done with the relationship. Obviously, the money thing wasn't the whole issue, but I won't go into any more detail. It wasn't fun. She had just given me season one of Scrubs along with a really sweet card earlier that morning. I hadn't gotten her anything. By the time we pulled up to the house she was in tears, and I was trying not to get emotional. It comes easy for me usually, and this time was no different. Eventually, I made her get out of the car, and I drove off to watch football and drink beer in a crappy bar with my friend. When I came home later that night I moved out of the master bedroom into a smaller room down stairs. Things were awkward living together, but we were being evicted in a month so we decided to just put up with it until then. We weren't bad tenants or anything, but the owner was dicking us around, and giving the status of our relationship we decided not to contest it. Over the next week I moved all of my things out of the room, which was always a depressing affair. She would cry, and I'd be an emotionless asshole. The downstairs bedroom didn't have a curtain on the window so I moved the mattress I was sleeping on into the closet so the sun wouldn't wake me up in the morning. It turned out to be surprisingly cozy in there. Now ninety percent of all my possessions are in that closet. It's like my own little rat's nest. Two weeks later I received a letter informing me that I was being laid off from my job due to budget cuts. My last day was two weeks later, and they gave me a small severance package. It was pretty poor planning on their part to give me notice though. For the next two weeks I really held true to the principles of this thread. It didn't bother me a whole lot though. I take bad news pretty well. Jen, on the other hand, does not. I didn't tell her, and still haven't, or any of my friends that are close to her. She would feel sorry for me and I don't need that. Plus, she doesn't need another thing to worry about. You see, she discovered that she was pregnant about the same time I found out I was fired. Like I said, she didn't handle it well.Jennifer came into my room drunk as a skunk rambling on about this and that. I was doing my best to ignore her when she broke down in tears and gave me the news. Naturally, I was thrilled, and seeing that she was completely sloshed made me feel even better. I could see right off the bat that she was going to be mature about it. I tried to get her to stop drinking, but she just spewed cliché after cliché and kept downing the shots. It didn't take me long to give up and wait for her to pass out. Things between us were pretty tense for the next week. She wanted to keep the baby for some reason that she couldn't explain to me, and I wanted her to give it up for adoption because neither of us were ready to take care of a baby. For Christ's sake we couldn't even get our own lives in order. She was feeling sorry for herself, and I was my usual asshole self, which didn't help the situation. After about a week of her telling my how bad she had it and me telling her to grow up and deal she miscarried. It's kind of hard to know how to feel when you find out something like that. On one hand I hadn't wanted to keep the kid, and it could only disrupt my already chaotic life, but then again I'm not going to be happy to hear that he/she/it died. Either way I was relieved. That issue resolved, I needed to find a job quickly so I turned to the only thing I could think of that I'm qualified for. I've been talking to an Air Force recruiter, and I'm pretty sure that that's what I'm going to do. In a couple weeks I'll be taking the mental and medical tests. I'd do it sooner, but I have to wait until the weed clears out of my system. It's been about a month since I've smoked. A very long month.My roommates (there was another couple living with Jen and I) moved out of the house this weekend, and I have to be out by Thursday. They got a nice place a few miles away, and Jen moved with them. It was strange helping them move because they kept asking me questions about where I planned on going, and I didn't have the balls to tell them that I was fired and that I'm moving back with my parents until I leave. They don't even know I'm planning on joining. So I sit now on the second story of a very empty house writing about my life for a group of people I vaguely know hoping that nobody from my real life sees this. I'm not drunk, but I'm working on it, and things are looking up. On Friday I'll be at my parents' house, and in a couple months I'll almost certainly be in boot camp in Texas. Hopefully it won't be so bad. I'll be able to see a little bit of the world, and it can't look too bad on my resume. Last week I looked over the jobs available, and so far being a cryptological linguist seems like the best option. If I pass a test they'll send me to Monterey Bay, which isn't too far from home for a couple years after boot camp, and I'll learn another language. That's got to be useful after I get out, and there's a small signing bonus. That's about all I have for now. Thanks for reading if you got this far. Wish me luck.