The Straw...

I don't even know where to start...

Tuesday night he wanted to hold Me as we lay beside each other. I let him but I didn't respond in any way. My back to him. Rigid. The hurt; from how he speaks to me when we argue- still too raw for forgiveness. This is when it all might have changed; were it not for one Word.

Aren't I worth a 'Sorry'?

Does he mean the horrible things he says? Am I Really 'Fucked Up' as is his contention? Is my mind a 'Scribble' as he describes?

Wednesday after work I drove him to the Pub. When I got out of the car too, he wanted to know why.

Me: I'm going to the shop to buy mince and taco shells.

He walked away and didn't even say Goodbye. Fine. Let him get his own way home then. Around seven thirty the phone rang. He was getting a lift from one of our Pub mates.

Sometime later he got back. We were doing the small-talk thing in the kitchen when it All started to go belly-up. He started saying something about withdrawing money from his bank accounts on Wednesday and Friday. I presumed because Wednesday was his Payday that he meant he would be getting the money on Wednesday from That account. The Friday money; I Presumed- was coming out of cheque that Hadn't Yet Cleared.

That's Important.

Because after getting the money out of the 'wrong' account ( it's my account but his pay goes into it and I have the keycard) I realised that This was what my major problem was...

Him: You don't fucking listen to Me.

Me: I thought that was what you said.

Him: Where did you get that stupid fucking idea?

Me: I thought I heard those Exact words coming out of your mouth. I thought I was doing the right thing. Last night; when you were telling me that you were going to 'Pay this and Pay that' and then 'buy yourself a motorcycle' and you said Something about withdrawing money on Wednesday I took That as meaning the money in the account that your pay goes into on Wednesday. I was trying to do the right thing. See? I even made a fucking list of things that you wanted me to get done today. Here it is written Here, see? Get one thousand dollars out of X Bank.

Him: See? There You go again. Always trying to cover your tracks. Always justifying the shit things you do. Why would I have asked you that? To get money out of Keycard Account that we can access anytime of the day or night? Only a Fuckwit does that.

Me:(yelling) I shouldn't Have to justify anything. I thought that's what you wanted me to fucking do. I presumed wrong, okay? But never mind. I can put the money back In that account. In fact, I already Have; after the way you carried on about it this afternoon.

Him: You're fucked in the head. Why would you put that money back Into the bank?

Me: To fucking fix this.

Him: You still don't even know why I'm pissed off at you, do You?

Me: Because I took money out of the bank?

Him: No. Because you don't fucking listen. And you bag me out to all your friends.

Well; that point may be true. But Don't fucking Listen?

I could tell you Every nasty thing he said to Me. Maybe because I listen to well.

Me: Well; You don't let me Speak.

Him: You don't even understand plain English. Your mind is a Scribble.

Me: I have a degree in English and you are Dyslexic. That's not being nasty; that's just True.

I think it was at this point that a strange calm- or some sort of delirium- washed over Me. As he sat on the front step of the verandah( I was inside at the kitchen window) smoking a cigarette telling me how Fucked I Am I just thought to Myself; You know what, Buffoon? You don't deserve Any of this. Don't feel bad that it's over. Just do what You know you've got to do. Because this is Never going to change.

Did You All just hear that fucking Snap?

That was The Straw.

Breaking.