It was my second worst 4th of July ever. I was going out to Sanger with my boyfriend to watch the fireworks. There were a ton of people there and we were running through the crowd. Instead of protecting me, leading the way, he pushed me ahead of him. I hated him for it and after about an hour of it I told him to stop it. He said he was putting me first. I hated him so much that I could hardly believe it. I wanted him to leave forever so I would never have to see him again. I felt nausea. A headache was brewing. And he wouldn’t listen to me and wasn’t taking care of me.
On the car on the way home, he pulled over and asked me to marry him.
I told him no. It’s amazing how clueless someone who you’ve spent almost four years of your life with can be so clueless. Didn’t he understand that I really, really hated him and wanted to tell him but didn’t know how I was to go about it? Apparently he really was that clueless.
It took me a year after that to tell him we were over. He dangled in front of me that he “never would have made love (to me) if we weren’t getting married. I glossed over it. He had pulled that before. I broke up with him and that was that. Except the next few months were we continued to sleep together. But that’s not uncommon. It led him on and gave him an unfair hope, but I found another boyfriend and I got married (not to him). I know he got married but I don’t know her. I do hope she is kind to him, at least kinder than I am to my husband.