Dean blew up at me last night. “Catherine, how dare you? I can’t believe you. Here I am trying to make a good impression on all your friends and during dinner on Sunday you tell everyone that I have two DUIs? You asked me if I had any skeletons in the closet and I opened up to you. No one knows about my DUIs except you and my mother. Do you think I have no pride?”
I’d been wringing my hands together in the cab ride back home to his place. He looked at me seriously at the bar when I said I wasn’t ready to go home from having drinks with friends and said, “I need to talk to you. We’re going home now.” Uh-oh. I felt like I’d been summoned to the principal’s office.
I couldn’t stand the silence and the unknown. In front of the cabbie, I said, “Ok, what’s wrong Dean? What’s going on?”
“No. I want to have a private conversation with you at home.” His eyes said it all. He was very upset.
When we both exited the cab, I turned on him. “You’re scaring me.” I started whimpering. “Just tell me what’s going on. I am not going back to your place with you while you’re like this. You’re freaking me out.”
I like Dean. He’s my boyfriend. We’ve spent a lot of time together. He’s nice. He’s sweet. He’s a gentleman who opens doors and brings me flowers. But I don’t like fighting. I didn’t like it when my parents fought nor do I like it now. I’ve had my share of arguments, but when the going gets tough, I’d rather run. Catherine = Extemely Non-Confrontational
I also had visions of Rihanna. I saw myself being dragged out of Dean’s place.
“Please, Catherine, let’s just go back to my place and have a private conversation. I don’t need to be airing my dirty laundry in front of this Pakistani restaurant! Here, hold my hand.”
Back at his place, door closed, he went on and on about how I’d embarrassed him.
“I didn’t know that was a secret! If I’d known, I wouldn’t have said anything. Dean! Dean, listen to me. The only reason I brought it up is because it’s such a non-event compared to who I am. It’s like nothing. Why do you think everyone thought it was funny? I went to AA. I am an alcoholic. I am an anorexic. I am totally crazy. I’ve been in and out of therapy, in and out of depression my whole life. Your two fucking DUIs are nothing.”
We bantered back and forth. I was exhausted and like always, I was done. I didn’t care that I had this amazing guy who was telling me he loved me, who was eager to meet my friends and family, who picks me up from work, who’s agreed to walk my future puppy. I’d had it.
“Look, if you can’t get over this, then I don’t know what to say Dean. You know, it’s not going to work out.”
He looked at me crazed. “Are you serious? You’re going to just walk away from me, walk away from us? Do you care that much about winning an argument?”
“It’s not about that. You deserve better. You are such a nice guy. I’m sorry, I just can’t deal with this right now. I can’t.” I completely broke down sobbing and he wrapped his arms around me and kissed my tears away.