You Know those Relationship Extremes?

Should we break up then? NO! Okay should we get married? That’s how most of our conversations went. From breaking up to marriage. Either I wanna spend the rest of my life with this woman or we should break up and never see each other ever again.

I fell in love with her dangerous dog, which didn’t make it any easier. The premise of our relationship was built on some shaky ground to begin with. She was a fashion model PR chick I met on Monday and she moved in on Wednesday. I loved when people saw us together, but I always felt short. Anyway, she got pregnant and everything changed.

I was like… damn. I’m a drug dealer who launders his money by producing one-act plays and comedy festivals. I didn’t feel like I had a very promising future at that time. I bought some turntables and thought maybe I might make it as a DJ, you know, a real job, but turns out my taste in music is shit. So I put a bed in that tiny room and that’s where I made our master bedroom.

I had three desks set up in the living room where I was sellin weed to produce concerts, theatre, and comedy. I had one full-time employee and a part-time employee, but the operation was pretty unorganized. This one day I woke up to a strange Asian guy in my living room.

Wtf?

Oh right I hired him. Musta been drunk. But anyway, even though she and I never got along, she was super hot and I needed someone to make me feel good about myself. I thought I loved her. But when she got pregnant I begged her to get an abortion even though I clearly remember cumming inside her and knowing what I was doing. Maybe I wanted an insurance policy to never be lonely ever again. But as soon as it actually happened, I realized what I’d done. Not a good day. She wanted to get married and I wanted an abortion.

When to Break Up With Someone? Way Before I End Up Here… Now It’s Too Late.

I was twenty-four years old and that was the day I ran out of my apartment with a bottle of whisky and drank for three days straight before coming home. She texted me forty times. I kept drinking. Should we break up? Hmm… When to break up with someone, I googled. Then I stopped. The nuance could never be articulated to a fuckin serach engine.

And definitely not after you get your girlfriend pregnant. Right. That’s a no-brainer. Okay, I’ll just go back to the apartment. I went back and she blocked me in and asked me questions I was too scared to answer. I started screaming. She screamed back. I called my employees and told them work was canceled. How do you know when to break up?

Probably now. No, try to work things out.

More shouting.

A knife was pulled. I was the one who pulled it. A kitchen knife. I held it to my body telling her to kill me. This was bad. The moment died and we had sex. I’ll figure this out tomorrow. Tomorrow came and I canceled work again. I went to the boxing gym. Then I quit boxing. I got hit in the gut and threw up all over Fifth Avenue. Serves me right.

I agreed to get married but I wouldn’t stop drinking. She told me I drank too much, so I ran out with my whisky to drink some more, but she blocked me at the door. She was bigger than me and it was hard to escape. I pivoted around her and went to my brothers to snort coke and drink in peace. 

How Do You Know When to Break Up? 

I ask my brother… But he didn’t fuckin know… My whole family was horrified by the situation. I told them she was pregnant and what was going on, but I left out the domestic violence part. I’ll keep that to myself. I couldn’t control my emotions though and was scared the knife scene would happen again. How do you know when to break up? When to leave? I can’t leave, she’s pregnant. But we need to break up, right? I don’t know.

I went back home and told her I was sorry. Of course I was, I’m a total piece of garbage. I’m threatening my pregnant girlfriend. But she threatened me. That’s no excuse. Whose fault is this? Mine. Is it though? All mine? I don’t know. Hmm… When to break up with someone… Fuckin shit, I don’t know. I need a drink. Actually… 

Should we break up? I asked her.

BREAK UP?

Okay okay, let’s get married then. But like, I’m a drug dealer. She told me we would have a trust fund. Her parents were wealthy. A fashion model wants to marry me and let me in on her trust fund, what am I upset about? I can’t be a dad. I’m a fuckup. I’ll be in prison next year. No way I’ll make it past thirty. 

Look, I mean, we barely get along… I said to her finally when it was clear a break up had to happen soon or else… She didn’t take that well. We fought and again we said things that shouldn’t been said. I realize today most of this was my fault. Back then I thought I was totally right about everything. Eventually she screamed that I would make a terrible father and she refused to have the baby.

I rushed us to an abortion clinic. The doctor told me to leave the room. They spoke for some time. She came out and was given pills. The doctor looked at me like I was a criminal. The next buncha days were horrid and I won’t write about em. I went on a mini vacation with my parents cause they thought I was losing my mind. I came back to an empty apartment. She left me. We sexted each other for another year.

Should We Break Up But Still Have Sex?

Turns out that wasn’t an option. Then I decided I had to do something drastic: move outa that apartment. My life was never the same. Our relationship was the most toxic relationship the world had ever seen. Should we break up? Yes. We shoulda broken up at the beginning. I never forgave myself, well, not until I got sober… in fact, it took many many years after that till I was able to even bring myself to tell anyone about this. Now I’m telling you. 

Then something crazy happened.

Greg? I heard someone say.

OMG.

I was in LA, my new home, and I sat down for a client meeting. I was signing my first PR client. I was a year sober. I looked to my right and it was her best friend, the one that sent me death threats (basically) telling me all the terrible things I did. She was right. I had to apologize. I left my potential client and pulled her away from her date. She was on a date.

I’m so sorry can I just talk to her a moment?

She got up and followed me.

I’m sober.

I know, I can tell.

Please I need to speak with her.

That will never happen.

What can I do?

I was on the verge of crying forever.

I’ll tell her I saw you and you look better. Take care of yourself.

That was the last time I ever had any connection with her. Some things are just left unfixed. Nothing will ever make that right. There are so many apologies I want to make, but I wouldn’t even know where to start. Sometimes the best apologies I think are to simply let that person live without ever hearing from you again. At least that’s what I think. I don’t even know how to finish this up. 

The moral of this story is… well. Don’t ever be like me. If you’re fucked in the head, leave before someone gets hurt. On a brighter note, nothing like that ever happened again, and if I can help one person avoid this, maybe this post was worth it. Now read this.

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