Almost the End

I couldn't sleep Thursday morning, so I got up at four am and went to the 24-hour laundrymat. I did three loads and was irritated that I hadn't heard from Andrew, so I dropped by his building. The doors open at 6am so I went in and up to his apartment. I knocked and rang the bell, but no one answered. I went back down to my car and proceeded to leave three nasty messages indicating that I was done with him, that I wanted my stuff back, my money back, and I wanted it all done by Saturday. He called around 7am saying he just got home. I didn't ask where he was, figuring it was none of my business. He said he'd put some stuff in a box and that I could come and get it.

He then said, you don't even seem to care where I was, you never asked even after I told you I just got home. I asked where he was and he said he was in a psychiatric crisis center because after we had talked on Wednesday night about the cell phone issue he called his counselor and said some things that made her concerned about his safety. So, he wound up being picked up and taken to the crisis center. I asked him how that conversation led him to breakdown and he said it was because of my demeanor, my tone of voice, and that fact that Kris was in the car with me while we talked, but mostly because it reminded him of the past. I have nothing to do with the past. I am not that other woman who hurt him. I didn't even yell at him. He said I was angry... beyond angry. And I was.

I asked him a bunch of questions: Why was it always me who begged for your time and attention? Why did you ever come up with things for us to do as a couple? Even after I talked to him about how I was unhappy with the time we spent together, for most of it was spent running errands, nothing ever changed. I asked him why he never took me out to the restaurant where my parents got him a gift card for Christmas. I said I knew he didn't have a lot of money, but that he only needed ten more dollars and it would have been a nice date. He said that he'd give me the gift card and my reply was that wasn't the fucking point. I said that he never even offered to pay when we went out, that I always footed the bill. He protested at first saying that he did offer, but when I asked for specific events, he rescinded his protest saying that I was right he didn't. I asked him why it took me breaking up with him and demanding my money back from him for him to pay me back. Ten dollars here and there would have been fine, but he never gave anything back. I told him that I hated going over to his apartment because it's filthy and disgusting. I asked him why he lives in that unhealthy chaos. I told him I gave myself to him and said I'd share my family with him and he wouldn't share with me; I wanted to know why. He had no answers for me. The only words he said were that he was sorry and that he didn't know.

After I asked him why I had to beg him to fit me into his schedule, I started bawling. Heaving, racking sobs that echoed off the walls. He got on the phone and called his counselor stating that he wished to cancel all future appointments. He went into the bathroomw, which is where he keeps his medications. I follow him in, making sure he wouldn't harm himself. I know this has nothing to do with me or me leaving him. I don't think he could care one way or the other about it. Never once has he said don't go or I'll change or let me make it up to you. Nothing. Finally, a plan is decided upon. He is going to the bank to get my money and then in an hour he has to call his counselor back. I try to make sure he isn't going to hurt himself, but he says my name so coldy that I back off. I am not his keeper and this is not my fault. He is not upset about me. Demons haunt him, not me. But I told him that he should know that walking away is not easy for me and that he damn well better not do anything to himself because it is not fair to saddle with that guilt for the rest of my life.

I go home and wait for him to show up with the money. He does. Then says he's not going home and that the police are waiting for him there. His counselor called them. There is an APB out on him. I asked him where he will go and he says he doesn't know that he will try to find a place to call his counselor. I tell him I still love him and he says he loves me. I walk inside.

Later his counselor calls me looking for him and wondering if I know what's going on; if he's upset. He is upset and I am the reason he is upset. She asked if we broke up, I said yes. I explained to her what happened that morning. She thanked me for the information and gave me her number in case I thought of anything else. I called her an hour later wanting to know if they ever found him; they had and he said he was okay.

Fast forward to tonight. I called Andrew because I had forgotten to get the game Scatergories from his apartment this morning. I called to say I wanted it back. We got to talking. He has to go into the psych ward in the morning. He may end up in the state mental hospital. He said that he should have ended things four years ago when he last tried suicide. He said he had planned on harming himself after he left my apartment, but wound up at his counselor's office. He said the state is now in control of his life. But I think to myself, Andrew was never in control of his own life. I again said I wanted answers as to why he treated me the way he did. He said that I didn't care because he was going to end up in Jamestown and losing his job. I said I did care, but that there was nothing I could about it and that it wasn't my fault.

He's bringing me my game in the morning. After I talked to him tonight, I cried for a long time and finally called my mom to console me. I don't know how it will be to see him again tomorrow, but I must be strong for he doesn't want me back. My heart breaks and he only thinks of himself and that I should only have concern for him. Doesn't he know that I am hurting too? Can't he hear the sobs? Yes, I care and don't want anything to happen to him. I wish him no ill will, I merely wanted answers.