Bile

A list of things that make me feel: like vomiting (1) to repeatedly sucker-punched in the gut (5).

1) The name Martha. (And possibly Megan.)
2) Girls who post pictures of themselves practically naked on MySpace.
3) Tommy Fox's.
4) My car which feels like an unwanted love child.
5) Andrew Zitelli.

* * *

Alright, let me be completely honest. I might just feel sucker-punched to the gut and like vomiting because I've been imbibing a tad too much alcohol. I wonder if Canada or Andrew is responsible for that. Probably both.

* * *

Breakups are so strange. Three weeks ago, I had a boyfriend. I would check my cell phone compulsively to see if he had texted me, and I would call him or text him if I hadn't heard from him in a while just to say, "Hey." We would email each other or chat online at every opportunity. We would call each other at night to tell each other we missed each other. He would say, "The time will go by fast. You'll be back before we know it and things will be perfect." Almost exactly one month ago he drove me eight hours from New Jersey to Canada. Six weeks ago he gave me a ring which I was to wear every day while I was in Canada to remember him by. Two months ago, I gave his mother long hugs as she cried on my shoulder, mourning the death of his grandmother. Three months ago, he would come to my apartment on his lunch break and I would fix him pasta or a quesadilla or a turkey sandwich. We would snuggle on the couch while watching VH1 Alternative or MTV2 and before he went back to work he would squeeze me tightly and kiss me. Two years ago, I threw him a surprise birthday party. Three years ago we would drive down to the shore and do crosswords on the beach, or lie drowsily in the sun, our arms touching. And throughout much of the past three and a half years, we spent almost every night together.

Now, he's an impossibility. I deleted him from my email contacts and took his number off my phone. I threw away all his pictures. (Okay, I kept one. We look so... happy. But we didn't have a lot of pictures to begin with; I feel like he didn't like to take pictures with me.) If, in a moment of weakness, I check his MySpace page or something, I feel like I'm "stalking" him. (I guess that's what it is. But I swear that I'm not going to do that anymore. It only make me feel stabbed in the heart, and for no good reason.) He went from my lover, my friend, the future father of my children, to something further than a stranger in the time it took to say "Goodbye." With the snapping shut of a cell phone, he was gone.

* * *

I think I knew on that trip that our relationship was doomed. That last night in the hotel he just wanted to watch TV. Much Music. And somehow we ended up in an argument about Nelly Furtado. I would have liked to lie side by side and talk and cuddle and give and take attention. And he didn't seem all that upset when it was time for him to leave me and drive back to New Jersey. Meanwhile, I sobbed uncontrollably.

I don't even understand what happened. I feel like he changed so much, so fast. I have this theory that when his best friend Paul broke up with his girlfriend, Andrew started feeling trapped, like he wanted to be free and on the singles scene too. And it was bad timing, because that's also exactly when I was mentally preparing myself to leave the country for two months and wanted him to spend more time with me. I wanted to be taken out on a date or some special night. I wanted him to want to take me out on a date or some special night. He just always wanted to go out with Paul or do things with his band. And when I would argue with him because he was cancelling plans with me or prioritizing time with me as secondary, always secondary, he insisted on interpreting the argument as "You don't want me to ever do anything!" rather than what it was, which was, "You said you would spend this time with me and now you're not here." Or, "I thought you weren't going to make plans for this particular day so you could spend time with me and now you made plans to go out with Paul/play a show/whatever?" And he would scream and curse. ... I never did get a date with him before I left. I should have known this would happen. I did know. Whatever the reasons were, the signs were all there.