I can’t wait to kill my boyfriend for the 13th time. I hum while walking up to his house, trying to decide how I’ll do it. I mentally go down the list of all the ways I’ve already done it and try to brainstorm a new way to feed my angry soul.
“Hey babe.” he says as he opens the door.
“Hello dear.” I say impersonating a sickly sweet tone. He ushers me into his room and turns on the TV. I already know all this. I know exactly when he coughs and-
“So..” he says right on time.
“Yes honey.” I respond. Deciding I should try to kill him with the TV, I reach for the cord.
“ I have to tell you something…” Even though I already know what’s coming, my heart starts to ache.
“I cheated on you with someone. It meant nothing.” He chokes up.
“I already know.” Then the sadness goes and the anger fills my veins. I pull the cord quickly and the TV follows. He jumps back, but I already get a good swing at his head and blood starts dripping down his once-perfect face.
“You don’t have to do this baby.” he says pleading, crawling away from me.
“Oh. I know.’’ I say as I smash the cracked TV over his head and watch him slump over.
I wipe my teary eyes and click the watch to go back to the morning.
Let me start from the beginning– I’m not just killing my boyfriend because I’m a psycho bitch. Well, maybe a little of that too. At first I started killing the girl he cheated on me with until it clicked… she had no commitment to me. She, like the rest of us, was just trying to fill our human need for comfort. Maybe she should have stayed away from a man that was off the market, but she didn’t. Watching her plead for mercy was certainly not as fun as watching the man I gave my whole heart and soul too. He knew I had trust issues but he would always tell me to ‘simmer down,’ or ‘I already have the best, why would I want anything else?’ I should’ve trusted my instincts… but love makes you blind. I walk up the steps to his house and prepare myself for the 14th time. I’m feeling a little tired today so I want it to be quick and simple.
“Hey babe.” he says for the 14th time as he opens the door.
“Hello dear.” I say sadly.
“Is everything okay?” he asks as we pause in the kitchen.
“You cheated on me, it meant nothing, and you still want us to try and work out.” I say, counting it off on my fingers as I go down the mental list.
“How did you know?” he says, taking a startled step back. I go to the knife drawer and grab a big sharp one.
“What are you doing with that?” he asks as he steps further and further back.
“I just can’t cope with all the promises you have broken. You made me feel so worthless. I gave you everything.” I say, my voice filled with emotion. Lucky for me, he backed himself into a corner. I sigh and stab him in the stomach. He moans and falls to his knees. I close my eyes and stab him in the neck. He lets out a gasp and then the light leaves his eyes. I check his pulse and make sure he’s really gone. Was I really not good enough? A tear slips down my face and I wipe it angrily. I pull up my sleeve and hit the watch.
Today, I don’t want to kill him. I walk to the restaurant near his house. I order a water and look at his house through the wide window. My phone buzzes and I pull it out. It’s him. I don’t even want to think about it. I want to focus on myself. I know I have my own set of problems, but I feel like if we tried we could’ve worked it out. I wanted to be with him forever. He made me happy… almost normal. I bury my face in my hands and let out a bone shaking sob. I tried everything I could to make him happy and satisfied and this is what happens. This is why I was so scared to love. This always happens. My sadness quickly turns to anger and I want to kill him for the 15th time. I go into the bathroom to try and freshen up and look into the mirror. My mascara is running down to my chin and my face is red and puffy. This is obviously beyond repair. I sigh as I click the watch.
Everyday I just get more exhausted and less satisfied with killing the once love of my life. I walk up his stairs slowly.
“Hey babe.” he says as he opens the door.
“Hey. Wanna go for a walk or something?” I say, gazing into his green eyes. He nods, looking slightly confused. We start walking alongside the road where cars are rapidly passing and I know what I have to do.
“I need to tell you something…” he says. I was hoping us going on a walk would make him forget. Maybe I would’ve forgotten too. I nod and look up to him. I’ve always admired the confident way he walks, with his head held high. I stop him and kiss him gently on the lips before I shove him in front of a truck that’s going way over the speed limit. The truck screeches and pauses and then drives off quickly. I slowly walk into the road and check his pulse. Oh fuck! I can still feel his heart beating gently. I pull him off the road and onto the sidewalk. Man, you’re heavy. By now I guess someone called an ambulance, because I can hear the sirens ringing in the distance. I look to make sure there are no bystanders and pull my sleeve down over my hand. I hear his raspy breath and it reminds me of all the fun times we had. Then I realize his mouth was next to someone else’s ear. It makes me nauseous. I put my hand over his mouth and nose and press down. I continue to scan the area to make sure no one is looking. I check his pulse once more and feel nothing so I walk away. I spot the ambulance rounding the corner and press the watch.
When someone offered me this watch after I angrily stormed out of Mark’s house last month, I eagerly accepted it. The idea of going back in time and fixing mistakes sounded amazing. Now I realize why the kind stranger was happy when I accepted it. It took the trouble off of their own hands. This much power should not be given to a flesh and blood human. Not only does it physically drain you, my mental state is also in question. It’s like I’m addicted to killing him. At first it was easy, but now I fight my inner self to even see him. Now I’m stuck until I can successfully fix this.
“Hey babe.”
“Hey Mark.” Instead of walking in when he gestures me inside, I sit down on the porch steps. He shuts the door and slowly sits down next to me.
“I love you.” I say turning to him.
“I love you too. A lot. But I need to tell you something” he says looking down at his hands.
“Okay.” I’m going to try and work it out this time. I’m tired of being hurt and angry.
“ I cheated on you. And I expect you to be mad. But I want you to know I’m sorry. If you need to punch me or something go for it.”
“ I don’t want to do any of that. I just want to know why.” From the first to the 15th time I never asked why, I just blew up. I’m done assuming.
“There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re absolutely perfect. But at one time I feel like you were pushing me away and you were always so angry. You stopped coming around. She was just being nice to me and she let me rant about stupid stuff.” he wipes the tears from his eyes and looks at me.
“One day we were just talking and she leaned in to kiss me and everything just happened at once. After everything I told her to leave and I blocked her. I just feel so awful and I don’t want to lose you, but I know I fucked up real bad.” I don’t know what I expected, but this wasn’t it. I want to forgive him but I don’t know how to yet. I get up and look at him.
“I don’t know what to say. I’m no longer mad. I’m going to go home and figure this out.” I say. I walk to my car and get in. I feel sad but i’m no longer angry. Sometimes forgiving someone can be hard, but at the end of the day you will be free. It took me 15 times to finally get to the point of forgiveness. But average people only have one chance, so take it when you can. Life’s too short to continue to be angry.
I love this idea of needing 15 do-overs before you can calm down and forgive. Sometimes it’s just like that and you can’t really help being angry, even though you might regret it afterwards.
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