2 de mayo del 2016, lunes
I have decided to disconnect from my phone to get away from all the outside noise that is wanting to interfere with my thoughts and in effect with a very important life choice. So, what do I do instead? Take to the internet and start a blog about my woes, of course. I spent the day at my temp job reading Sylvia Plath, Anne Finch, and researching how to write poetry to find an outlet for all of my feels. But who am I kidding, I cannot sit and write a poem for the life of me. Please excuse all of mistakes, the excessive use of commas, and pass the vodka. I suppose I should start with the most recent events for some background.
I have currently moved out of my apartment that I share with my boyfriend of five years to move back into my childhood home with my mother, sister, and 4 month old niece (suffering through her first ear infection). When I say “currently moved out,”I mean I drastically decided to move out of the apartment at 6:00am on Sunday and was settled back into my childhood bedroom by 8:00pm.
My boyfriend, Fitz, and I have been going through some pretty tough shit. He is a bartender at the local watering hole, Fonzie V’s, and is well liked and respected by his comrades and patrons. He is also the love of my life. Back in January I discovered a secret social media profile he had created-mostly to look at tits and ass-but I found that he was avidly following a specific girl. A girl who came into Fonzie V’s and he felt the need to leave her a comment telling her she was beautiful and reminding her of her visit. I put him on blast as the incontrollable rage took over and everything went to shit. His work was affected, his image was damaged, and he blamed me. I will gladly admit that I did not handle the situation well AT ALL, but who would? He shouldn’t have been keeping secrets in the first place. Whatever.
Fast forward to the present. A friend of mine called me over to her house on Saturday afternoon to tell me about her new love interest. She asked me if Fitz and I were still together (it is the million dollar question since we are still trying to work shit out) and I tell her that I don’t really know what is going on with us. She then shows me a picture she found via social media (oh the internet) of a girl’s (Jill) bare leg draped over Fitz’ leg and they seem to be on a bed as there is a comforter, fitted sheet, and and throw blanket (looks a lot like my bed). How, you may ask, do I know it was his leg? Well, his staple outfit consists of camo cargo shorts, black socks, DC’s, and a black t-shirt. Plus I’ve lived with the guy for 4 years and know what he looks like.
I race home and confront him with the picture. He says that picture is from when we were fighting about the comment chick back in January and that it is not a bed, it is a couch at his buddy Dean’s house. Dean is a coworker whom Fitz plays video games with-though I don’t remember meeting Dean nor have I ever been to his house. Do I believe it? Nope. Later I am sent more photos of Fitz with Jill (a regular at Fonzie V’s and apparently a VERY good friend though I have never met or heard of her before)-on Valentine’s day. This photo is of Jill’s face and the top of a males head. It is clearly Fitz’ head as I have snuggled that round melon many a times but this has not been confirmed or denied. The most recent photos were of Fitz and Jill in April at a Ball for Bartender’s. Granted, anyone in the industry can attend and it was a group thing. These photos were tagged and now all of social media knows.
All of these things are what made me drastically decide to leave our premises immediately. I feel as though our lives are splashed on the front cover of OK! Magazine with a headline DIVORCE! FITZ CAUGHT WITH THE NANNY! WHO WILL KEEP THE CATS?
He has called me and texted me that he loves me, that I am the only woman for him, that he is scared of losing me and everything we worked together to build. Of course, these feelings and fears are mutual as I ardently love him and want to believe in him but I need the facts. What I can piece together from what he has vaguely mentioned is that Jill and Dean are a thing but this has yet to be confirmed or denied. How do I not know any of his friends? I’ve spent the last 2 years nose deep in novels, poems, and writing essays. (I just received my degree in English with a Concentration in Literature and made it on the Dean’s List!) This left no time for play at Fonzie V’s.
Our communication is lacking, to say the least, and the outside noise does not let me think for myself. I wish I could buy a one way ticket to England, get a temp job there and run away from all of this. There are, however, a few minor set backs to this plan. My savings account has all of $30, our joint savings account has a whopping $100, and my passport is expired. What is one to do?