Happy now?

I broke up with Irish on Thursday.

First, he called me from work to make sure we were still going to the mall to see our puppy. I asked him what he'd done on Halloween, and he told me he'd gone to this girl's house (which I knew) and that something had happened that shouldn't have: they made out in a hot tub.

I hung up on him, punched the wall a few times, and sat on the floor of my bedroom, cursing myself for being upset, knowing that I had no right. He still showed up, sat down next to me, and lectured me for the bruises on my knuckles, saying now he really has to teach me how to fight. He also explained what had happened - how he'd pushed her away twice before giving up, how he'd felt bad because, somehow, he felt like he was cheating on me - like, how could he tell me how much he likes me and then turn around and kiss some other girl? I told him that was more or less why I'd punched the wall.

We went up to the mall and sat in our parallel universe for about an hour; Irish even had a whole conversation with the pet shop employee about how close we were to buying this dog, and had her totally convinced that we were a couple... Which I guess wasn't that far of a stretch.

He went to play volleyball. I went home.

We had a store meeting that night, and about eight of us went to Friday's afterward - the official end of Sober October, and for some reason, two drinks was enough for me. I'd planned on breaking up with him, and I'd planned on being drunk when I did it, but what ended up happening was, instead of sitting in his car and talking like usual, we both fell asleep in our respective seats. When we woke up, around 3:00, I wasn't nearly as eloquent as I'd been in my head all afternoon.

"I can't believe we fell asleep," I said. "There were things we were supposed to talk about tonight."

"Like running away together?"

I smiled. "No... I have to break up with you."

"I know."

"Lui and I are starting counseling, and we have to give it an honest try, and it's not an honest try if you and I are still..."

"I know. And I hope it does work out for you guys, and I think it will..."

"But if it doesn't - I mean, we're going to put a time limit on it, so we're not just waiting for things to get better for the rest of our lives. Maybe six months, maybe a year."

"I really think you will work it out with him," he said again.

That's funny... I don't.

**I know I have yet to explain to you, blogging public, everything that's wrong with my & Lui's relationship. But I guess I keep thinking I don't have to, because either I talk to you individually, or, as I'm quickly finding out, you all sort of suspected that Lui and I would have these problems all along. So did I. We start counseling on Tuesday...