photos1.blogger.com
Yeah, that's what NavyMan said to me Thursday night. He followed that by some yelling, then finally repeating "Fucking bitch!" over and over as he left my condo.
What happened? What else but our weekly Thursday Night Fight™! However, this time it was not about jealousy. Here's what went down:
I had received a job offer, and was considering my options. NavyMan and I went out to meet up with people from our program at school to celebrate the end of the term (which I had organized, or I probably wouldn't have gone). Anyway, I had a few beers in the first couple hours, then stopped drinking. NavyMan kept going. Nothing wrong with this whatsoever; just info for later.
We got home, I checked my email for any news on questions I had sent to the job offer-er, then got into bed with NavyMan. We started talking, and I said at one point, "I wish you weren't so drunk." This would have been followed by my next sentiment ("We can talk in the morning"), but instead NavyMan jumped up and slurred, "I'm not drunk!" He left the bedroom and went to my couch. OOOooookaaaaayyyy.....
About two hours later (at about 2am), NavyMan went to the bathroom, slamming the door and waking me up. I got up, and told him I needed to sleep, and was going to call him a cab. He said, "Fuck you, Bitch."
I had had it. I told him to get up and get out. He kept cussing and telling me how horrible I am, that I had called him a "drunkard." I told him I had said he was drunk, not that he was a drunkdard, and had never called anybody a drunkard in their lives...seriously! Who calls someone a drunkard? I took his house keys off my keychain, and took mine off his.
He was taking his time getting out. I was getting a little nervous, and told him he needed to leave. As I was closing the door, he said, "Fucking bitch!" about five times.
He called me about an hour later and slurred, "What just happened?" My response: "You called me a fucking bitch, and we're over."
He called me the next morning to apologize for swearing at me. We had tickets to the ballet the following night, and NavyMan was really pushing for me to go. I told him calling me a fucking bitch was the final straw: we were done. He apologized profusely for the cussing, but those words amount to a deal breaker for me.
Those of you that commented that this wasn't a jealousy issue so much as a control issue were absolutely correct. I told NavyMan that he should get counseling, and that I would help him through it and go in for sessions if the therapist wanted to meet me. He said we needed to go for couples' counseling, and I told him this wasn't a "couples" issue; never in my life have I ever had a weekly fight. I might be tough on the guys I go out with once or twice, but I am a damn good girlfriend: very loyal, very loving, not a non-sensical fight-picker.
He has control issues, and he needs to figure out why he does and how to get around them. Needing to know where I am at every minute or who I'm with or saying he's in love with me and wanted to marry me seconds before calling me a "fucking bitch"--that ain't normal.
As for the picture up top, I never understood how "bitch" became such an insult, and how "fucking" became a bad thing.