Day 152: Bad Girlfriend Rides Again

Boyfriend hates when I write about him. I don't blame him. Living with someone who may or may not put everything you say and do on the Interweb was SO not what he signed up for. But, I like to think he doesn't mind it if I end up being the villain. This is what I tell myself.

I've been to see three theatre shows in the past few days. Boyfriend was present at none of them. He comes to MY shows and that's about it. He'd rather watch hockey than men in makeup. I get it. Normally, it's no big deal to go out on my own, but Monday's outing led to what I like to call A Fight.

First off, we don't really fight, Boyfriend and me. Well, I fight. He doesn't. He just calmly tells me I have completely fucked up and he moves on. Me? I kick and scream and drag us through hell for reasons that, right at the moment, elude me. Usually, it has something to do with watching too many romantic comedies during my Divorce Recovery phase.

So Monday night, a night where Boyfriend thought we were having a Date Night, I went to the theatre. Why did he think we were having a Date Night? Because I suggested it. Why did I go to the theatre? Because I totally forgot about ever suggesting a date night and I told my friend Chris I'd go see his show in June and I didn't and then I said I'd go see his show in January and oh-shit Monday was the last night.

So I go to the theatre BAFFLED as to why Boyfriend is giving me attitude.

I watch Chris' show and then have a beer with Mark Hopkins (Captain Laid Back & Under 30) and Hopkins says he can get me into ANOTHER show at 9:30 for FREE, so I say HELL YES and we go to that.

Now. In between all these shows and unbridled spontenaeity, I do not call Boyfriend. I do not text him. I do not send him smoke signals. In no way do I communicate what the hell I'm doing or why.

Because I'm a wild and crazy artist and I do what I want. The thing is, my need to do whatever the hell I want doesn't mesh so well with Boyfriend's need for me not to be at the bottom of a seven-car pileup...or a seven-man orgy for that matter. 'Specially on our special night.

You know when you're the partner that's sitting at home? And you think, 'Ok a show at 7, she'll be back by 9...still sort of date night.' And then 10 o'clock happens and you start to imagine horrible things. And 11 o'clock happens and you start to get MAD. And the mad mixes with the worry and the scenarios in your head start to involve red leather handcuffs and then midnight happens and she comes home and you're actually a little DISAPPOINTED she wasn't in a twisted metal serial killer sandwich with the area cordoned off by police tape and the need for dental records?

That was Boyfriend's Monday night. MY Monday night was music, dancing girls, laughing and good conversation. SOMEONE sure got the shaft on that one.