Ahhh. I was far too eager calling my man amazing. After many attempts at pleasing him, he still continued to think of himself above me.

I drove down to the big city last Tuesday to visit him in his little bat cave near the University. I arrive after the four hour drive to be turned around and directed to the cold beer and wine store...ALONE...so he can watch the hockey game and I get him cold beer. After the game, he takes me out to dinner, or so I thought. He asks to split the bill. He asks to split a 24 dollar bill. Clearly I went directly home and to bed sans even the slightest amount of affection. The next day is St. Patricks Day. I make us miss our bus because I couldnt pick shoes...so of course, this means its my fault and that I alone will be paying for the cab downtown. I do. We finally get to the pub in Gastown where my Iphone proceeds to be stolen. I am using his phone to try and track it down and ...BEEP BEEP...a text..which I read, its only fair rite. I am a girl, we are curious creatures. Its a reply to a message he had just sent (while I was at the table may I add). It says, I heard about this great sushi restaurant on Robson..I'd like to take you. Her reply is yes, of course. I think to myself (after that awful tear-your-entrails-out-fuck-my-man-is-a-dirtbag feeling ceases) ..wait a second, he couldnt have?? He couldnt have just asked this girl to come with him to the restaurant I had described to him earlier as my favorite restaurant in Vancouver? No man would ever be so cruel?...Oh yes Kristin, he did.

I try my best to remain composed. I tend to my duties as his woman and be nice to his friends. I cant even text my friends what has happened because damn it, I dont have my phone. Finally, a fellow woman at the table spills the beans to him while I was having a much deserved cigarette. I return to the table, and then proceed to be taken outside for a "chat"...this chat doesnt go so well for him, I cry, he cries. I leave him. He cries. I return to the pub, shoot gin. He shoots gin. We are all shooting gin. We take a cab home. I dont speak, he talks to himself. We arrive home. He cries. I cry. We fight. We kiss. We have sex. We smoke cigarettes. We watch our favorite TV show. I wake up. I leave, no words spoken. I drive home in silence. I spend six hours in the lab. I return home, my friend has died. I dont have anyone. I call him, I cry...again. We say we miss eachother...I havnt spoken to him since. Its hard, I don't know what else to do with a broken man.
I've returned to my University, realized I was too ambitious to assume someone who lives four hours away would be able to commit to me, so who was selfish? Was it me, to assume someone would want to committ to just me, when we could only see eachother sporatically? Or is it him, for being so broken and stringing me along for so many months. Who is selfish? Well, we both are. But who is at fault? I hurt, he doesnt. But do I hurt because I miss him, or am I hurt because I don't get my way. I know the answer, its taken me my entire life to know myself this well.
Touche to the first man to take from me what he wants, and to deprive me of the same rights.