"Okay Heather if you want to be like that, fuck you! I'm not gonna stand here and take this shit. We're done."
"Fuck you back you asshole! You damn right we're done! I want a man that treats me well!"
"You mean you want a man that's whipped, that caters to your every idiotic whim, that hands over money because he's your personal ATM. In other words, you want a chump. I'm not a chump, nor that desperate. Besides, you ain't even that good. Goodbye."
"You are a loser! You'll regret losing me! And just so you know, it wasn't the first time I slept around!"
"I figured that much Heather, you're a slut." I turned and walked away, ignoring her name calling and angry comments. Eventually she stormed off.
Sorry about that, it's not exactly the best way to begin is it? I had hoped to be done with that fight before I started but she likes to draw out a argument and I just couldn't get away. Anyways I'm Jimmy. That was my now ex girlfriend Heather. I trust you got the gist of why we are breaking up. Good because I hate repeating myself. And because I just want to forget that bitch. I walked down the street, away from her and her house, and back to mine, 3 blocks away. A nice day out, I go into my backyard and sit down. Willing myself to forget Heather, but as you can guess, it's not easy.
Heather and I were together for about nine months, and I'm amazed I lasted that long. The old cliche 'If I'd have known then what I know now' comes to my mind. She was okay in the beginning but man oh man, when she doesn't get what she wants, she's a total cunt. Again, I find myself wondering why I stayed with her. Heather's a selfish, egotistical, spoil bitch. You heard all the things she wants from a man during our fight right? Well I'm not a chump, nor a pussy, nor whipped for pussy either! God help the poor sap that actually takes her on next!
My phone text goes off. It's her, of course. Another one of her wonderful traits is the inability to accept she's lost a fight. I glance at the texts. As you can imagine, they're basically the same shit she was yelling at me all on the street. 'You suck, you can't even make me cum, you treated me like shit, I'm gonna get a better man' you know all the usual stuff women tend to resort to when they lose a fight. I laugh it off. I treated her well, and didn't respond to her bullshit until she made me snap, which was about the four month mark when she wanted some thousand dollar diamond earrings. As if I could afford that, I bus tables for Christ's sake! I don't make shit! Still live with my parents because of it! As for not making her cum, she's the worst sex I ever had. Doesn't like being eaten out, doesn't do anything other than missionary with her on top, barely sucks cock and complains when she has to suck, and so on. Her getting a better man comment made me laugh again. Like I said to her, she doesn't want a man, she wants a chump.
As you heard she slept around. Not that that bothers me much. I had a feeling she'd started that a long time ago. Why did I stay? I hear you asking. Why does anyone stay in a crappy relationship? Not wanting to be alone? Trying to make it work? Genuine caring for the other person even if they are a complete fucking idiot? All of the above? I'm not sure which one applies to me, maybe all. But it's all over now. And there's this great weight off my back because of it! My phone keeps buzzing and it's starting to irritate me so I turn it off. Then I revel in the silence and sun.
I don't know how long I was out there but I heard my name being called from next door and sat up. It's Mrs. Morris next door. Jennifer Morris, the neighbor to my parents from when I was born. Her kids and me are friends but they're all off in college. I didn't have the grades for college, nor the funds. My parents are currently on vacation, celebrating their thirty years of happy marriage. Mrs. Morris is a nice woman and, once I started growing up, a total hot. The term 'MILF' that was popularized in the first American Pie movie could've easily been about her, Busty big (fake) tits, hot body, long hair currently dyed black, she was a blonde a month ago, tight dresses, high heels. A younger me had had to hide some boners watching her then almost getting caught by her kids, my parents, or her husband. Her husband, whom I never really liked, is a workaholic, always at work, hardly ever home, leaves at dawn, comes home for dinner, then watches TV until bed, then repeat. Lately though he's been not coming home until really late. They've been fighting, as I can hear. "Hello Mrs. Morris!" I answer.
"Call me Jennifer or Jen please Jimmy, 'Mrs. Morris' makes me feel old."
"You can't be old, not a day over thirty-five," I compliment. She laughs. She doesn't look a day over thirty-five though. I don't know her actual age, and since it's rude to ask, I've obviously never asked.
"Stop that you young buck, you'll make me blush."
I wish I'd get you to do more than blush, I think to myself before shaking those thoughts off. Leo and Jack, her sons, would kill me. "Where's your girl?"
"Heather and I are done. Long story. Short version, she wants a chump wussy for a man."
"Kids today, they think they're so entitled to what they want. It's terrible."
"I agree. But not all of us are like that."
"No, you're not. Which is more than I can say for my own sons."
"Where's your husband?"
"On another business trip. Honestly when he gets back we're going to have a long talk and if things don't come out right, I'll be filing."
