How It All Ended

I once had a boyfriend who owned a Jeep. He was pretty proud of it, especially of the fact that the top and the doors could come off. During the summer, we'd drive everywhere that way. It was exhilarating, slicing through the open air like that at 60 mph, but also a little terrifying. And somewhat uncomfortable: even on a hot day, the wind would make you wish you'd brought a jacket and would whip your hair into one giant tangled knot no matter how you tried to hold it back. The exhilaration and the terror, the fluctuation in temperature, the helplessness and the mess were also a pretty good metaphor for our relationship as a whole.

After all, this was the same boyfriend who was "straight-edge" when we met and, on principle, would refuse to kiss me if I had had so much as a single beer at a party — the same boyfriend who later became a bartender. The same boyfriend who saw no problem with inviting his ex-girlfriend out to the movies with us, yet steadfastly refused to participate in any event involving my family. The same boyfriend who would high-five his drunken friends, in my presence, when they'd crudely congratulate each other on "scoring," but who also managed to imply, every time we were together, that I was lousy in bed.

Looking back, it’s hard to recall what motivated me to stay.

Our final showdown occurred at a Friendly's, of all places, in the parking lot, in the Jeep. It was winter now, so the roof and doors were firmly in place, and the enclosure only intensified every insult and accusation hurled. Finally — FINALLY — I reached my breaking point. Midsentence, I grabbed my purse, unbuckled my seat belt, and reached for the door.

"If you leave this car right now I will never speak to you again!" he shouted.

"Good!" I yelled back.

As I swung the door open and climbed down he called out, mockingly, "Well, it was nice knowing you!"

Icy now, I turned back to face him and replied, "No, it wasn't."

Slammed the door.

And left.

I had to walk home alone, about a mile, in the dark and the cold, but every biting breath of frozen air that filled my lungs felt like my first, and I thought, finally — FINALLY — this is freedom.

And that's when it all began.