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I was shopping for engagement rings, even though I wasn't really ready to get married. She had stuck by me through the cancer ordeal, it had been over 2 1/2 years, so I almost felt obligated. But while I was away at school, I had a sneaking suspicion she was messing around behind my back and falling back into her old ways.
Sure as shit, I was right. Still about 99.9% sure she was fucking a guy who she just happened to be "hanging out with a group of friends" on a daily basis. That, and the little money she had was once again going right up her nose. Maybe in her arms too, but I'm not much for the semantics in this regard.
As I went there to "talk things over", I strategically packed all my belongings up in my racecar, which rather inconveniently was stored in her garage. Once I was done, I reaffirmed that it was over, and the shit started flying. Literally. Boxes whizzing past my head, golf clubs, Build-a-bears, you name it, if it was within reach, it was being thrown at me. Police show up, my vehicle is trailered away as the officer keeps her away, and I get about a months worth of e-mails, phone calls, and text messages about how I ruined her life, I'm the scum of the earth, etc.
I don't regret it ending. Ever.
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