My Boyfriend Disappeared on Me for 3 Hours on Date Night
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Have you ever been in a relationship where your partner brings out the worst in you and you get a bit nutty? No, scratch that; you go crazy, insane even! Well, it happened to me.
It was a Wednesday afternoon and we agreed to meet at his house after work. I arrive ready to spend some quality time when Mister tells me he has to run an errand. Only he doesn’t come right back home. I text him a few times and he doesn’t respond. And I never felt such rage. I am so livid that he has not answered that I send him over 85 texts and messages on WhatsApp.
3 hours later. Still no word. I go bezerk. Like never before. I consider myself to be an easygoing mujer. I pride myself on being calm and collected; I never let anything get to me and rarely stress out – and I actually do mean that. That is until my man – or whatever you want to call him – pulled a disappearing act.
So I go I through our phone bill and search every number that I don’t recognize from his recent calls. I pay for Spokeo, an app that gives you a numbers contact information. Now I know who each person is and their address. Like a complete psycho who needs meds, I call each and every number and ask for him.
“Hi, is Greg there?” I ask nonchalantly. I had to keep my sudden craziness subdued so they wouldn’t suspect a raving lunatic was on the other line. But I got nada from those calls, just more paranoia and questions.
I call co-workers and leave his place and search for him everywhere.
When he finally shows up, 3 hours later, I am a crazy mess. I go 50 shades of RED. I yell and cry and feel every emotion in between.
“You’re overreacting, I just wanted to relax with my boys,” Mister says. That’s right. That errand turned into a guys night out.
“You always think the worst.”
He continues onto a sob story about how he is stressed out and doesn’t want to fight. Somehow he manages to make himself the victim, which completely boils my blood. I say it’s over and storm out, crying hysterically. He follows and plays the part of the good boyfriend. He hugs me, says he hates to see my cry and he is so sorry. I believe him.
He totally played me like a fiddle.
The next morning I take a hard look at myself and feel embarrassed and ashamed. I went too far, I mean really, really far. I also should never let anyone rattle me in that manner. It’s about my self-control, the way that I react to situations and conflict. Instead of unleashing Vique la Loca, a woman I didn’t realize lived within me, I should have walked away and let it be. That’s better than losing myself. That’s better than crazy – insane even – because as it turns out, he did it all over again the following week. Turns out, he was cheating on me.
I left him. But there’s a lesson in all of this drama. I realize that I never want to experience that level of psychotic behavior again. If any man drives me to crazy – insane, even – he’s not the man I should be with.
