Drunk on whiskey and dreams, I fall asleep on my couch. Alone. Again.
Tuesday. My cell rings at 4:37 am. But I don’t answer it. I’m half asleep. And still drunk. And I’m just not ready to talk to her yet. Besides, I already know what she’s going to say. And I don’t have a good story to spin to her. That’s tomorrow’s bullshit. I fall back asleep.
My cell rings at 4:51 am. I answer it and toss it across the room. I can still hear her yelling. I groan and get up. I take a piss and head back. I hang up the phone. She was still yelling.
My cell rings at 5:07 am. I just let it ring.
My cell rings at 5:11 am. I still don’t answer it. I am too drunk and too tired to give a shit. She has to give up eventually.
My cell rings at 5:20 am. I don’t hear it. I have fallen into a deep and peaceful sleep. And not even her rage can wake me up now.
She doesn’t call again the rest of the morning. Or the next day. Instead she calls all of our friends. Tries to turn them to her side. Convince them that I am the asshole. Dave tells me about it at work. I’m not surprised. She’s done it before. She does it every time. She’s never happy when we fight unless she wins, convinces me that she won, and then tells the world all about it. As if they really need to know our business. I am getting tired of it. My friends are getting tired of it. Dave told me to dump her. Said she was pissing him off. He won’t answer her calls anymore. Sounds familiar.
Thursday. My cell rings at 3:57 pm. She wants to apologize. I tell her it’s over. She starts yelling. She calls me an asshole. I put the phone down and walk away. I can hear her from the bathroom. I sigh. At least it’s the last time…