But now? Now I get called a cunt. Now I get his projection, his cruelty, his anger.
I grab my phone and message Alice, my constant lifeline.
Alice:
I’m fucking proud of you for submitting your book. That’s a big one!
Also, I’m not a fan of this trickle truthing he’s doing here.
What is he hiding?!
Me:
Thank you. It’s not my best or my worst. But in the circumstances, it’s the best I could do.
Trickle truthing. I laugh and cry at the realness. I feel this so hard.
Alice:
I can’t take credit. That’s a real term!
I’m also mad at him for telling weird lies.
Just. Be. Honest.
“Yeah, Karen and I went smoking and chatting.”
The issue isn’t the cigarettes or the company. It’s the lie.
I sigh, grateful for Alice’s grounding presence but deeply unsettled by Timmy’s constant need to deceive, even over the smallest things.
A FEW DAYS LATER
The pattern continues, escalating as it always does. The latest offense?
I refuse to buy Timmy a cigarette.
Me:
Fed up, I text him.
Me:
Goodbye. I deserve a guy one million times better than you.
Timmy:
I’ll just die, hopefully.
Me:
You’re gross. Going out in the middle of the night begging for cigarettes is pretty fucking gross, and you know I’m not okay with it. So we’re done.
Timmy:
I’ll make my preparations.
Seconds later, my phone buzzes again, this time with a GIF of Pete Davidson as Chad onSNL, saying, “Okay.”