work pants

i asked him to sit down at the kitchen table with me.

it used to be our kitchen table. my best friend's friend gave it to us. we went to pick it up in his jeep. his cousin has our other kitchen table. he was going to paint it and give it to us as a christmas present.

"there's something i need to tell you and it's not pleasant so i'm just going to say it, ok?"

"ok."

i had written the line in my journal ten times. i'd practiced it in my head, i'd said it out loud.

"i had unprotected sex outside of our relationship and then i came back and had unprotected sex with you."

physically i tensed up to wait for the ensuing barrage. outside i remained calm. i stared into his eyes.

nothing.

"i got tested on thursday and i'll have the results in two weeks."

"you have reason to believe that you put me at risk?"

"well, i went to give blood and then wouldn't let me because i had had unprotected sex with an iv drug user in the last 12 months. i got home that night and it sunk i what i had done.”

“that’s when it sunk it?”

(brace yourself) “yes. i’m so sorry.”

“who is it?”

“i don’t think i have the right to put someone else’s shit out there.”

“but it’s an intravenous drug user?”

“yes.”

interminable pause. i sit with my hands folded. scared. ashamed. not wanting to soften the blow. feeling like i deserved whatever is coming next. he’s going to tell me that he knew. that he was right for telling me it was an inappropriate relationship. that he knew i was cheating. that i had lied to him once again. all of it. he was right. i was ready. yell away. tell me i’m a bitch and a slut and that i fucked you over.

“well i guess that’s it then, right?”

“i don’t know,” i say. right then i wanted to be with him worse than ever.

“yes. it’s over,” he says. “i haven’t really been into it these last couple of weeks, so it kind of gives me a way out. makes it easier.”

that sunk deeper than any name calling. a buckknife on valentine’s day to the heart.

i hand him the work clothes that i had washed from the last time he spent the night. tell him he can come get his last few things anytime. and he leaves without even looking back.

minutes later i get a text message:

“does the cheating coincide with your mental breakdowns?”