This is the 100% true story of a fight I had with my girlfriend. I was emotional, but I still remember it clearly, so this is pretty much word for word. Hope you like it.
*
My girlfriend and I had just had the biggest fight we could remember. It started off harmlessly, but escalated quickly. It started at her house on a typical Friday night when we were home from college for the weekend. We both currently go to the same college, but I'm a freshman and she's a sophomore.
Anyway, we were home alone chilling out on her couch, watching tv, when my phone rang. I squinted at it. It was a number I didn't recognize. Someone had sent me a text (I later found out it was a wrong number) that read, "Hey, wanna meet up later?"
Liv, my girlfriend, was leaning on my shoulder but saw the text too. Her head shot up and she asked suspiciously, "Who's that?"
I genuinely didn't know. "I have no idea babe. Must be a wrong number." I started to reply.
She stopped me. "You're gonna answer that? Just ignore it. Hopefully they'll stop."
"Why? I was gonna tell them they had the wrong number."
"Oh ok." Then her eyes narrowed. "Wait a minute. How do I know you're actually gonna say that?"
I snorted and said half-jokingly, "Liv, are you ok? You seem awfully paranoid."
She reached for my phone. "I'll do it. Give me your phone."
I replied, "Why? Don't you trust me? Why is it such a big deal to you? It's just a wrong number!"
She was getting annoyed now. "I don't know that! That could be some sleazy hooker you're secretly banging for all I know!" She paused and looked me dead in the eye. "You haven't, have you?"
I hesitated. She never usually acted like this. In retrospect, hesitating was probably a huge mistake. She probably thought I was trying to think of a story. I snorted and said, "Oh Liv, don't be ridiculous. You're the only girl for me."
She noticed my hesitation. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "You have, haven't you?" Her eyes filled with tears. She put her hands over her face, so only her hazel eyes were visible. "No. No. You didn't. Tell me you didn't!"
I stared at her in disbelief. "What the hell has gotten into you? Of course not! I would never cheat on you. I love you! You know that."
She was getting hysterical. "That's what they all say! It's always "Oh honey, I would never!" or "I love you!" she paused, crying hysterically. "How could you do this to me?!" she finally screamed. "After all I've done for you?!"
I was getting angry now. "Liv, come to your fucking senses! You're being ridiculous! It was just a fucking text!" It occurred to me what that last sentences might have implied. After I said it, of course. That's always how that stuff works. Shit.
She stared at me, tears running down her face. "I don't believe you. I've been here for you all this time, and you've been screwing some loose whore behind my back! Who are you?"
I finally snapped. I stood up and yelled, "YOUR FUCKING BOYFRIEND, THAT'S WHO! IF YOU WOULD JUST CALM DOWN AND LET ME EXPLAIN, I WOULD!"
She replied, "OH THAT'S CUTE! YOU'VE THOUGHT OF A STORY NOW, RIGHT? SOMETHING TO EXPLAIN WHY YOU'VE BEEN CHEATING! I DON'T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT THE REASON! I'M NOT THE ONLY GIRL IN THIS RELATIONSHIP! THAT'S ALL I CARE ABOUT! WHY WOULD-"
I cut her off abruptly. "SHUT UP!"
She stopped and said softly, "Oh, you've done it now." She started to walk away but I grabbed her arm, turning her around to look at me. "No I haven't. I'm just going to. I'm sick of all these insane accusations you're throwing at me. Just listen. You never listen. I-"
She started yelling. "RIGHT, I DON'T LISTEN! BUT I BET SHE DOES, RIGHT!?"
My jaw literally dropped. "Are you serious? Are you fucking serious? This is a joke, right?"
She pointed to her face, swollen and red from crying. "Do I look like a fucking comedian to you?"
I relaxed a little. "No. I'm sorry." I tried to hug her but she pushed me away.
"DONT TOUCH ME! YOU DISHONEST, TWO-TIMING FUCK!" she stood there, crying again. "Get out."
I stared at her. "What?"
"Get out. Out! You obviously don't wanna be with me anymore, so go. Leave. Get out. Now. GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE!"
I walked for the door. "Fine. I don't need this. I don't need this good honest boyfriend horseshit!" I opened the door and turned to her. "And I don't need another girl when I have you either!" With that I left, not bothering to close the door.
I stormed down the driveway. I opened my car door and jumped in, slamming it. I pounded the steering wheel and roared, "FUCK!" I was pissed at Liv for accusing me of cheating. I loved her so much, why the fuck would I cheat on her? I started the car and slammed the gear stick over to the right and down, into reverse. Literally, slammed it, almost breaking it in two. I drive a stickshift 2003 Saab 9-3 by the way, but that's not important right now. I floored it out of her driveway and again, literally slammed it into first gear, so pissed off that I dumped the clutch and punched the gas, resultantly burning out, leaving skid marks on the road at the foot of her driveway. I didn't go home. I just drove around for a while, driving very fast and erratic, almost breaking the gear stick every time I shifted gears. I finally stopped after about half an hour, turning onto a dirt road.
I stopped on a cliff overlooking a distant city, the lights lighting up the night sky. I shut the car off and just sat there for a while. Then it hit me, were we done now? I hadn't thought of that, I was too pissed off. "Oh no," I groaned out loud. I hoped she didn't break up with me. I didn't know what I'd do without her. I started crying, a combo of anger and sadness. Anger at Liv for jumping to those fucking ridiculous conclusions. Sadness at the thought of losing the only girl I've ever loved. If I didn't have that beautiful smile of hers in my life anymore, I'd break down. And that gorgeous face and bright, bubbling, mischievous personality. And of course, that knockout ass and 34C rack, complete with a navel piercing and perfectly toned stomach. I wanted to save our relationship. But how? There was no way she'd talk to me now. Damn it! This wasn't fair. I sat there for god knows how long, before turning around and driving home.
My family sensed that I'd just fought with Liv and kept out of my way, much to my appreciation. I didn't want to start with them too! I went to my room and slammed the door. I just sat on my bed, blasting all the heaviest, loudest, most obnoxious metal music I could find on my iPod, mostly old Metallica and some Ozzy, with a few Disturbed and Three Days Grace tunes thrown in. That helped get rid of my anger. I don't usually listen to metal, but it helps whenever I'm pissed off. I stayed up really late jamming on my guitar, trying to lose myself in it and forget Liv. I broke a string from playing so intensely, which only pissed me off even more, especially when I realized I didn't have any spare strings to replace it. I finally had enough and went to bed, exhausted and irritated.
I woke up the next morning, Saturday, feeling sad. But I couldn't remember why. Then I recalled the night before, and the fight with Liv, and I felt miserable. I called her several times, and she never returned them. I eventually gave up and just screamed, "FUCK!!!" in anger and frustration before collapsing on my bed, crying again. I even took a picture of her out of a scrapbook she made me and tried jerking off to it. It didn't work. I sat there for 45 minutes, spanking it to the picture, with no orgasm. I eventually balled my hand into a fist, crumpling the picture, "Fuck. FUCK!" I hissed, throwing the balled up, crumpled picture to the ground and burying my face in my hands.
I finally worked up the balls to go over to her house that night. I had called her no less than 17 times that day, and she hadn't answered. I turned into her driveway, dreading this. The skid marks from my anger-induced smoke show were still there. Her parents weren't home, judging from the absence of their car. I walked up to the door and hesitated. Should I really do this? Is this a good idea? I thought reluctantly. I stood there for a minute debating, and finally said out loud, "Ah, the hell with it," and rang the doorbell. No answer. I rang it 4 times, and still nothing. So I pulled out my phone and called her. I could hear the phone ringing inside the house, but she didn't answer. So I left a voicemail, "Hey Liv, it's me. I'm sorry. Could you call me? Please? I really want to talk to you. I miss you baby. We can make this work. So call me back. Please. Bye." I hung up and waited several minutes. Still nothing. I sighed and turned away, about to leave, and said out loud, "She really does not wanna talk to me, does she?"