We all go a little mad sometimes...

Today was a "crazy" day.

You know how that sense of proper judgment and deciding which behaviors are right and which are wrong sometimes disappear when you've been drinking?

Yeah. I did that today sober.

We had an argument at lunchtime about single life. Jokes and comments were made and I blew up. I was livid and I turned on her quickly. I yelled and I screamed. She needed to go to work so she tuned me out. I yelled louder and screamed louder. She headed out of the apartment. I chased her. She told me not to make a scene in the hallway. I said that I won't be living in this apartment anymore, why should I care what the neighbors think. I followed her down the stairs and to the car. I blocked her car door so she couldn't get it. I asked her to listen to me. She said she couldn't breathe. She went around to the passenger side. I sat in the driver seat. She got out. She climbed in the back. I sat in the driver seat. She got out. I let her in to the front seat but wouldn't close the door. She started the car and backed up, me running along with the car. She began to pull forward and I slammed her door. I ran upstairs and called her. She hung up. Repeat. repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. She picked up and told me she didn't have time for this. She hung up. repeat. Repeat. Repeat. She wouldn't answer. wouldn't listen to me. I left a voicemail and then had a genius plan. I would look up the phone number to the apartment complex where she was working today. Eventually she answered. I asked her not to hang up. She shouted oh my god and did just that.

The remainder of the day went with me calling her and either getting no answer or her hanging up on me. I left voicemails and texts. I was out of my mind. I knew it, too. This is, by no means, typical behavior for me. My heart is destroyed and instead of trying to be civil, I am going to war.

Eventually she responded to my texts.

"You are a crazy person!"

Probably not the best thing to say to me in my current, insane state of mind.

I called again. She said she wasn't home but when she got there, she would call. She did. She told me she didn't want to see me right now and that I shouldn't blame her. I really don't. Deep down, my mind knows that she shouldn't want anything to do with me at all. A part of it is still desperately clinging on. I won't get her back but my brain won't let me give up yet.

I scheduled my first therapy session ever for next week.

Sunday is our last day hanging out. She leaves on Monday. She returns the 22nd. Papers will probably be filed on the 24th. I move out into my new place on September 4th. September 5th, I cry. A lot.