outta gas. august 11th.

so ever couldn't figure it out on his own.

he texted me last night, asking when i have some time in front of the computer to help him figure it all out.

i texted him back that there's nothing to figure out. that he needs to go to the bank with $450 to fix his mistake.

yesterday, in my work-related daily trip to the bank, i asked them what will happen, after they said he hadn't fixed it yet.

they will take it from my own account if he doesn't fix it within thirty days.

i have to keep an eye on it.


i fought every urge in my body to blast him with 'good thing you didn't file that restraining order', or 'i thought you wanted to prevent me from having any contact with you. i don't think i'm supposed to interact with you', or 'have your lawyer contact my lawyer'.

and while we're on this topic, i was talking to kit last night about the whole 'ever asking my lawyer about my sex life' thing, and i know what it is about it that gets to me.

he was on a dating website. six weeks after i left him. he gave up the right to say anything to me about anything related to sex/dating/relationships when he did that.

and while we're on the subject some more...

about the car.

it's mine.

it makes me picture us in a courtroom battling it out:

lawyer: 'yes, ever. what type of oil is in the car?'

ever: 'i don't know.'

lawyer: 'right. which tires were replaced?'

ever: 'i don't know.'

lawyer: 'when the tires are low, what psi do you fill them to?'

ever: 'i don't know.'

lawyer: 'how much does a gallon of gas cost right now? or in the last month? or year?'

ever: 'i don't know.'

lawyer: 'how much is the car payment?'

ever: 'i don't know.'

lawyer: 'how much is the insurance payment?'

ever: 'i don't know.'

yes. that's right. ever has never vacuumed out the car, has maybe put gas in the car three times in the last two years, never taken it for an oil change, or any other service, has never filled the tires when they are low.

he liked to wait in the passenger seat of the car and watch me do all of these things.

and never paid a car-related bill.

what a man.

but, sure, ever. go ahead. you deserve half of the car. take it.

all this thinking is ruining my drive. it's ruining my desire to sleep with boys. it's ruining my days even.

being stuck in a dead store for ten days is a lethal combo. because i have nothing to do but think. and i'm not in the mood to think about chalk or anyone else like that. i just think about ever. and everything he's doing. and not doing. and everything he wants. or doesn't.

maybe if i just think about how much he's going to have to pay on retainer, that will help. the thought of him coughing up a grand right now makes me pee my pants. and that would be almost as cheap as what i found.

and i doubt he has anything to pay.

i just keep thinking about the house. the basement. all the things i still have in there for my work. i'm going to have to pay the dudes to move it all out for me, so i don't have to go back and so he doesn't have to touch any of it. he can just direct them. and then it's over. if only i had somewhere to put it all...

i wouldn't be surprised if he threw it out.

so help me god.

i keep trying to calm down, thinking of different ways to get back at him. or put it out of my mind. and then i think of something else he might have done. or could do.

yesterday i kept thinking i'd have to go back with a police escort. due to the threat of the restraining order. and in order to keep things civil. and in case he did something stupid somewhere along the line.

ever likes to break things. it doesn't matter if they aren't his to break.

all it takes is one bad day. one temper tantrum.

trust me. i know.

aside from that, i'd like to believe that i'll be seeing the perseid shower tomorrow night. but i'll be exhausted for nate on friday if i do. i think it was supposed to peak tomorrow. but there might be some craziness tonight.

i just wanna go lay in a field somewhere on my back. stare at the sky.

and try to forget all the bullshit ever puts me through, or at least cast it aside.

when i stare at the stars, whether or not they're moving, nothing else really seems to matter.

No comments:

Post a Comment