Some of you might find this humorous; I find it rather irritating, but; I am going to write about it to get it off my chest. Ironically; this was something that this guy, who this story is based on, told me to do. He always said that I bottle things until I finally explode. Well, today was one of those days when I finally exploded and I exploded to the max.
I traveled from Kellyville, Oklahoma to Bixby, Oklahoma to Oklahoma City, Oklahoma and then to Stillwater, Oklahoma, which is where this story took place. I was already tired from all the traveling and the lack of sleep I got the night before. I had planned on meeting this guy, my ex, earlier but he slept in late so he missed my text so I drove to Oklahoma City, bypassing Stillwater, just to turn around and have to drive all the way back out to Stillwater to meet him.
I pull up and he is working on his car, and I must say he looked hot but then again, I do like a guy when he has been working all day, hence the photos I had posted all over my Facebook, at one point, of guys working in the yard and on tractors.
So, we chat and I hand him his clothes that I somehow wound up with over the months. By hand, I mean I actually threw them at him. I was tired, and had planned on taking a much needed nap when I got there, but boy do things change. I then smarted off about having a flashlight of his that he would not get back.
This flashlight was a cheap flashlight, but it was one I actually cherished because last Annual Training, with my unit, we had a tornado go through the base in Arkansas, and he let me use that flashlight when the power went out. It was a small gesture, but it was his only flashlight, and he let me use it. Dumb, I know, but it made me remember that there are still good guys out in this world; they may not always be good, but even sometimes is better than never.
When he realized I had his flashlight, he took my phone as a bargaining chip. I begged for my phone back, and when I realized the only way to get it back was to give his flashlight, I obliged. He then realized what flashlight it was and told me I could keep it. Silly, I know, but it was still something I wanted.
A few moments later, it became extremely cold, and I told him we should climb into my car; so we did. He then ate my lunch, my really expensive pleasant lunch. In his defense, I offered it to him, but I honestly didn’t think he would eat the entire thing. He offered me a bite, but this was after he had his greasy hands all over it. Not only did he eat my lunch, he drank my entire pop as well. Anyone who knows me, knows that you don’t come between me and my Pepsis. So, I tell him he has to buy me another one, so I took him to the store to do so.
After we got our drinks, and he paid for it, we went to walk out of the store and this idiot let the door shut on me. Thanks dude, which is exactly what I needed. Pour salt in the wound.
Back at his place, while still sitting in the car, he does what he always does. He grabbed my iPad and started digging through it. I didn’t care; there was nothing but memories of me and him and a few videos of my son’s t-ball game on it. But then he did the unforgiving; he erased a very dear photo of mine. My freaking eyes got so big! I could feel my mouth drop! I looked at him and said, “Get out!” He must have known from the look on my face I was serious because he got out in a hurry.
I then receive this text from him which read, “That was stupid of me. Sorry. Don’t get excited this is one of the few times I was truly wrong”. Damn right it was! Those are actually two things I very seldom ever heard come out of his mouth; an apology and saying he was wrong.
I took my frustration out on the road and headed back home knowing that this was going to be a very long intense drive. I cried; oh my goodness, did I break down and cry. I cried so hard over this stupid little picture and I don’t cry, like ever. For me to cry meant that it was a seriously big deal.
Breathe! Just breathe! Yes, I actually said this out loud while driving and feeling my face on fire. I had to calm down; I had to think about what I was going to say back. It was just a picture and although it couldn’t be replaced and my dumb butt forgot to back it up, it was still just a picture.
I waited until I calmed down, then I sent him a text that read, “Don’t worry about it. It was just a picture”. I didn’t know what to say, it wasn’t just a picture to me; it was a picture of a me memory that I was so fond of, and he erased it.
So, then he decides to text me back with a quick reply/question, “You’re mad about the picture?” Damn right I was! Why wouldn’t I be? But instead of telling him how I really felt, I told him that I needed to leave anyways. So then he proceeds to tell me that it wasn’t even a good picture. Really? I thought it was a cute picture and besides, it wasn’t his to delete. I decided to show him that I wasn’t mad, because this is what adults do, they try to avoid confrontation right? I wiped the tears from my eyes took a few deep breaths and sent him a photo of me smiling with an attachment that read, “See? Still smiling.”
Truth is, I was heartbroken. He deleted something that was very dear to me. I don’t care how crappy the photos was; it was my photo!
So then this guy tells me to go take a nap. Listen here jack rabbit! I was going to take a nap until you decided to start messing with me back in Stillwater but instead, I find myself driving the very long drive back to Boswell, Oklahoma, to my house.
I have a tendency of feeling venerable so I, for whatever reason, decided to send him a smart pants reply right back at him. I said that him deleting the only copy I had, kind of made me realize how much he really didn’t care, and then I thanked him. The reply I got back was, “You’re welcome?” You’re welcome? Seriously? You’re welcome? I could knock the crap out of him!
He continued texting with a nice little note that said, “You shouldn’t keep them anyway. Just makes it harder to move on.” I wasn’t keeping them because I couldn’t move on ass hat! I was keeping them because it depicted a moment in my life when I was happy. Get over yourself. For the love of Pete, get over yourself!
So I did what any chick would do in my situation, I tell him that I have already moved on, and that still did not give him the right to delete my photo. Right after this was when I realized that a technology addicts worse fear was about to happen; my phone was dying. I grabbed the charger and realize that it was already plugged in, but it wasn’t charging. What? Oh no, oh no, oh no!
I told myself to not panic. I stopped at a store and bought a charger thinking that maybe the charger had messed up. Nope! After going into the store and trading the charger twice and then, going into another store and buying another charger, I realized that it had to be my phone.
I grabbed my little flashlight, the one that he finally ended up giving me so I could no longer feel like a thief, and I looked inside. Sure enough, the charging port was broken.
Apparently; when he took off with my phone, my phone was still on the charger and it yanked it causing it to break. Yup, it was his fault. I wanted to turn the car around, drive back to his place, and smack him upside the head. I couldn’t bring myself to do it though; he looked awfully cute with his hat hair and grease smeared on his face, and the fact that I was on a mission to get home kind of stood in my way.
As the red warning light kept flashing at me, I began to panic. My phone was going to die, I don’t know the way back home, and I am going to be eaten by wolves. Yes, wolves! It was the only thing I could think of when my mind started racing towards the worse possible scenario.
I decided to drive anyways. I was about thirty minutes into my drive when my phone finally did the inevitable, and flat lined on me. I went into a serious panic. I felt my heart racing. My eyes got big. I started to sweat. I was looking for a bag to breathe into. I continued to drive until I came to a fork in the road.
Oh crap! I don’t remember which way to go! I looked everywhere for a store and realized that I was having a full fledge panic attack. I pulled into the store and managed to calm myself down. I got out of the car and went in to ask the clerk for directions. The clerk had no clue, and of ‘course, no one carries maps anymore since everyone has smart phones.
I drove to another store but before I got there I felt something come over me. I couldn’t breathe. My phone was dead, I am lost, I am going to die, and then I am going to be eaten by wolves and no one knows where I am. This story kept playing out in my head like a broken record.
I get out of the car and run into the store and I look at the clerk and said, “Ma’am I may need you to call 911, but don’t do it yet!” I must have looked crazy as the clerk picked up her phone and patiently waited for me to give her the go ahead. “I can’t breathe! What is wrong with me?” I was getting to a point where I could verily talk. The clerk looks at me in a startled look and says, “Do you have asthma?” Why yes, yes I do! I darted for the car before even responding to the clerk, ransacked my car, and found my inhaler. One pump. Breathe. Two pumps. Breath. I waited for a few minutes and could still feel my chest tightening. One pump. Breathe. Two pumps. Breathe. Oh yes! There it is; almost orgasmic.
I was too embarrassed to tell the clerk, so I just left and went on my way. I drove and drove until I finally seen something I recognized. I had never been more excited to see the rink dink town of Atoka; I was almost home.
Excitement filled my veins. I looked over at my phone and said, “Who the hell needs you anyways?!”
(Previously written on this site and recovered from the WayBackMachine. The date of the original publication has been lost.)