Death by a Thousand Cuts
At some point, I’ll venture away from Taylor Swift songs. But let’s be real: she’s read everyone’s diary backwards and forwards and has a full catalogue of our deepest thoughts. Ok, maybe just mine.
Alexa, play “Death By A Thousand Cuts” by Taylor Swift…
“I dress to kill my time. I take the long way home. I ask the traffic lights if it will be alright, they say ‘I don’t know’. And what once was ours, is no one’s now. The only thing we share is this small town.”
It’s been 13 years but I still remember how it all went down: My first breakup. I’m forever the asshole who broke up with him when he came back from visiting his terminally ill grandmother. In my defense, I picked him up from the airport like I promised I would and I didn’t do it in front of his family. I did it when he tried to have sex with me after I got him home. How did I know it was over? I was as dry as the Sahara.
Why did I do this? I’m glad you asked. Because he was an asshole and I’m petty. I almost left this man at Comic Con because he told his friends he wished he hadn’t brought me when some Cosplay hoochies walked by. I tapped him on the shoulder, looked him dead in the eye and said “You can walk home, bitch” in my Regina George voice. That’s right. I had a car, gave him a ride to Comic Con and he disrespected me like that. Needless to say, when he followed me through the Convention Center begging like Keith Sweat for me not to leave him — I stayed…for almost a whole year. This was my first relationship and I was nineteen, so I was beyond stupid.
Fast forward a month, it’s his roommate’s birthday. They ordered gothic belly dancers because…I guess his friend’s into that. They were alright. The pyromaniac in me was more interested in their fire tricks. Anyways, I had to work the next day so I went to bed at midnight. He got into bed with me around 4 am smelling like a wet dog because he hot-tubbed with those women until the wee hours of the morning. Needless to say, I was pissed. Still…I did not leave.
Let’s flash forward to the Witch Fire; They were evacuated. After the fire was contained and they were let back into their place, he and his roomies decided to throw a kickback. Little did I know, they invited this little skeeze named L who attached herself to my boyfriend. He was obviously enjoying her attention as he flirted with her right in front of me the whole night. It didn’t end there either. She tried to sleep with him months later at their Christmas party. When I saw that heffer again and she was on crutches, I hid them in the bushes and watched her hobble around because again, I’m petty.
We’ll just flashforward 6 months to July and the breakup. He cried. I cried. I collected my things. I drove home. Poway Road is extremely long when you’re happy or sad. It’s literally a fucking town on one street. I had a lot of time to think as I cried and ate snot that I dripped into the last quarter pounder with cheese I would ever eat.
What’s he doing now? Oh, he married the next girl he dated.
