Chapter 17 — The Straw that Broke the Camel’s Back (part 2)
I pulled into the garage and took a big breath before heading to the elevator. I’m just looking to come home and talk to this girl about some stupid setting on her phone and why I would like her to change it. I knew she would never just say ok or even hesitantly change the setting after rambling on about being overbearing. She was not going to change the setting until she believes it is her decision to do so. Her stubbornness will eventually be her undoing. I close the front door behind me and walk into a dark house. Light from the bathroom bleeds into the living room enough so I can navigate to my room. The girl is quiet and so am I. I turn the light on in my room and lay on the bed. I talk to the ceiling loud enough for her to hear. “Hey I didn’t want to keep talking through text but I’m really bothered at how far you are taking this. Can’t you just respect my feelings and change something that you yourself said isn’t a big deal?” She replies through the door, ignoring my questioning. “Are you in your room?” she asks. I give her an affirmative. I sit up on the bed and start to think she is acting a little strange. No sooner does this feeling come over me than she opens the bathroom door that leads to the bedroom. As if in slow motion, she walks around the corner. Her heels tap against the floor at the pace of a leaky faucet as she walks to my feet at the foot of the bed. My eyes scan her from bottom up as my mouth slowly opens and my eyes get wide. She is wearing nothing but high heels, stockings, and Fredrick’s lace. I can’t lie; I had to take a second to regain my composure. The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak. Once I was able to blink, the first thought in my head was ‘this bitch’. You see, since we were Skyping from Brazil, she had always told me she loves to wear sexy lingerie. Sometimes she would pick one up and show me, and some times she would give me a show. When she got here, I figured she would have a blast at the American lingerie stores. We walk past a Fredrick’s of Hollywood one day and we leave with a few items including the getup she is dressed in. Since buying the outfit, I’ve asked her to put it on for me. She would always tell me to calm down and wait for a special day. Well today is as special a day as any! I look up at her face and blink rapidly, “what are you doing”? She takes one look at my “I can see right through this” face and barks, “what is your problem”? “Look you knew I was not happy,” I calmly but firmly reply, “and you knew I wanted to come home and talk to you about this. We can either finish our discussion now, or I can wait for you to put some clothes on.” I have never felt more like a man than at this moment. I had finally lit the fuse. I feel weak no longer. If I had been a weaker man, I would have fell for her pussy trap and taken her right there and then. She shoves her finger in my face and promises that I will never see her in that outfit again. She then goes on to tell me that she has never been treated like this in her entire life, and that no man has ever told her to put clothes back on. I think all macho to myself that she has never met a man like me, but I know I’m not actually bold enough to say such a thing. She continues to curse and yell as I calmly wait for her to put clothes on. We sit on the couch and begin to argue for reals. Even with all this momentum, I am unsure as to how this conversation is going to end. The turning point came when she confidently suggests that she should leave. Oh what a bad time to call my bluff. I bat my eyes twice and respond, “what a great idea”. I start to tear at this wound. “This is the third time you’ve threatened to leave, so you know what? I think it is a good idea too. I’ve had enough bickering and arguing. We obviously can’t make this work so it’s best if you leave and we end this”. This statement begins her downward spiral. She leaps from the couch in hysteria and runs to the closet. She begins to frantically pull all her clothes from the hanger and throw them on the bed. Anger. I stand in the doorway and watch. With most of her clothes out of the closet, and no sign of me going after her, she pounces on top of the mountain of clothes and unleashes the floodgates. Sadness. She cries and cries. I do not console her. I go back to the couch and stare blankly at the wall. Is this over? What have I done? What do I do now? I lost track of time watching the wall, but she eventually comes over to me on the couch. She is not crying anymore but she is frantic. She is begging me not to do this and telling me she will be different from now on. Delusion, the final stage. I told her I couldn’t do it anymore. “It isn’t normal to fight as much as we do. Especially in what is supposed to be the honeymoon phase.” I explain to her. “This is natural. People fight in the beginning of relationships. You think your parents didn’t fight in the beginning?” She reasons. My parents are divorced. Eventually she calms down and collects herself on the couch. She ends up begging me to kiss her, which I thought was very strange. I think she was grasping at straws for anything that might change my mind. I can’t lie; I bit on the kiss. It didn’t change my mind, but I figured I wouldn’t be kissing anyone any time soon, so why not one last hoorah. Today I was faced with a very difficult challenge but I didn’t let anything distract me. A real man knows when to run and when to fight. I feel I have ran enough so today I fought. I feel the battle is over now, but the war is still raging on. Breaking up with my short-term girlfriend was the easy part. Words were exchanged today, but actions were not taken. I couldn’t just throw her out on the street with nowhere to go and not even speaking the language. I tell her we will figure something out but she won’t be able to live with me for much longer. I need to keep my head clear and stay focused because we all know that the girl is very well capable of staying until December 5thif I don’t stay on top of her leaving my house. I’ve got the bull by the horns, now I need to wrestle it to the ground so things can finally go back to normal.
