I have never told a living breathing soul this before, and I am not proud of it....but I did feel vindicated.
It was Christmas time and I had traveled to stay with my boyfriend/newly engaged fiancé for the holidays. The first day I was there it was total bliss. The next day he began to act a little weird and half heartedly broke the news to me that I wouldn't be able to join him with his family on Christmas day because of some family issues unrelated to me. Hmmmm...
So, I spent Christmas day, all alone, watching a marathon of Duck Dynasty. He returns late in the evening and isn't really talkative about his day. He proceeds to break into a bottle of tequila he had gotten as a gift. At that point I was pretty much done....with everything. I went to bed while he stayed on the couch with his drink and phone. What he didn't realize, I guess, is that I could see him from where I lay. He feverently texted for literally hours, giggling and smiling. When he finally came to bed I pretended to be asleep. He actually thought he was going to get a little "play". After a while he was snoring away and it was eating at me just what he was doing on that phone. SO I LOOKED. Yes, I did. Turns out he was texting an old friend from high school. It started out innocently enough but didn't take long to turn into sexting....nudie pictures and all. They ended their conversation by making plans to meet up the next morning.
Alarm goes off at 7am....I am groggy and ask what was going on. We had plans to go on a day trip. He tells me that he got a call after I went to bed and he had to go into work that morning......R.I.G.H.T.
He gets ready. I pretend I am asleep. He leaves without as much as a goodbye, I guess because he is still expecting me to be there when he returns. Once the car pulls away, I quickly get up and pack. I write a note on a napkin because he has no paper. Basically told him to go screw himself and to check the dictionary for the definition of commitment. Then....this is the bad part.....I felt sick to my stomach from all the anxiety of what was happening. I decided it would be best to visit the bathroom before I left on my long drive home. Diarrhea. Great. As I am sitting there the weight of the last 24 hours just comes over me like a sea of red. I can feel my face get hot and tears welling up in my eyes. I was so angry, hurt, disgusted, the list goes on. I look over at the sun coming through the window and casting a glow on the sink. Toothbrush. Really? Should I? I have never been a bad girl in my life. I follow all the rules. I am the poster child for "make everyone feel better". Before I flushed, I decided I would do one last good deed for him. So, I cleaned his toilet....with his toothbrush. Tapped it off, flushed the mode, put it neatly back in it's spot, washed my hands, and got on with my life.
Am I sorry? no. Do I regret it? It wasn't the most mature thing I have ever done, but I sure felt better driving home.