Oh, no. Not like that. You know I don't drink. I'm talking about another wasted night out. It did not start well, it didn't end well. From the beginning to the end it was an exercise in what a relationship should not be. He was trying to be funny, so he mocked my accent. I told him I was over that. He was trying to be civilized. I retreated to biting remarks. The more he tried, the worse I responded. He told me I was a bad conversacionalinst. I told him it was the company I kept. He introduced the topic of how some of our friends broke up. I spit back that it was really good to talk about that. Then we stopped talking altogether. Salad and a silence. Later, he agreed on going someplace after dinner after someone else suggested it, forgettin I've been proposing it for ever. It only works when one of his friends thinks it's a good idea. When he wanted to go out I said I didn't care. That sealed the deal. The whole night ended in bitterness and recriminations. He did nothing but blame me for ruining it. I did nothing but blame him for ruining me. We drove back home in total silence. Couldn't even eat. Talk about a waste of a good salad.
The situation is almost ridiculous between us. Oh, and one of the topics was how to treat our exes. Very comforting, huh?
I'm sleeping in the sofa. He doesn't even give a shit. Hopefully, the end is near. Is that what I want? I basically took a page from a borrowed book and acted in the most spiteful, childish way possible. Given that he already accusses me of being snotty and immature, what's the difference?
Gosh I'm bitter. I can barely stand myself.
If I bite myself, I'll drop dead in less than a minute. I'm that poisonous right now.
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