Oh Lord, Help Me Keep My Panties on - By Lynda Burton Page 0,85
could hold in my arms and in one swoop tossed everything out. I began grabbing everything and anything that was his and out it went. He hung up the phone in a hurry and ran over to the window to close it. “Baby, she lying,” he said. I had to struggle to get the words out, and when I finally did all I could do was to say why. “Why, Max? Get the rest of your things, and get the fuck out.” I wanted to slap, punch, kick, bite, shoot and stab him. I wanted to set his body on fire while he was tied to a chair. I wanted to slice his body a thousand times and watch him slowly bleed to death. I wanted Max to feel pain, and I wanted him to hurt.
But instead, I remembered my demons and cried aloud. “Why is it so hard for me to find a man I can trust? Why didn’t you just leave me alone, when you really wanted to be with her? What did I ever do to you, for you to treat me like this? If you just wanted to fuck me and not have a relationship, you should have said that from the beginning. I might have fucked you, and I might not have! But be honest, for goodness sake! Unfortunately and sad to say, there are a million women out there who’d fuck someone’s man because the man says he’s not happy! Is that it? You’re not happy? I yelled. I just don’t understand why lie about your intentions! Max, maybe someday you’ll realize that the word ‘love’ it’s not just a word you say or use casually. The word means that you have or share an intense affection with someone. How dare you say that you love me and treat me like this! I said annoyingly. Maybe one day you’ll be honest and stop telling those senseless lies and that you’ll think about someone else’s feelings before you hurt them. Maybe your life will be nothing more than a lie!” I yelled.
“I was warned by more people than you can imagine about you being a compulsive liar, but I didn’t want to believe them, and I’m sorry I didn’t listen, it would have saved me time and heartache.” Max lowered his head, picked up his things and then walked to the door. He turned around and said, “I’m sorry that you found out this way. I tried to end it with her, but I didn’t know how.” He said, “Your motorcycle is at my house. You can come and get it or if you want to leave it at my dads until you make room in your garage that will be fine too.” “Just get the fuck out!” I yelled. “I’ll pick up my bike as soon as I can, you can leave it outside, and I’ll pick it up within the hour!” I screamed. As soon as Max walked out the door, I walked out to the garage and made room for it in the garage . . . Then I called a cab and went to his father’s house to bring my bike home. When I pulled up to the house Max was opening the garage door. Haley, are you sure that you want to take you bike home? It’s ok if you want to leave it here. Max stated. Thanks, but all I want to do now is to steer clear of you and I’ll take my bike right now. Max rolled my bike out of the garage as I placed my helmet and gloves on. I turned the key to let it warm up a little, and then I took off. Usually there’s snow on the ground in January in New York. Thank goodness that the roads were clean and clear of debris.
When I got home I pulled into my garage, chained and covered it up. Then I called my boss and burst into tears when he answered the phone. When I regained my composure, I told him an abbreviated version of the story and asked for sometime off. “Haley, if there’s anything I can do, just let me know. Go ahead and take sometime off, the office will be okay,” he replied.
The next day, I got rid of all my sheets and comforters, and purchased new ones. I didn’t want anything on my bed that we had slept on. I threw out everything on his side of the medicine cabinet