Updated: Jul 20, 2020
I crashed my boyfriend's car, and he broke up with me.
He broke up with me! I couldn't believe it!
No one has ever broken up with me!
My heart was wounded.
I don't blame him.
I was high on pills, and I honestly didn't have to admit that.
I said it because I have a guilty conscience. Even in the presence of a GOOD Mormon who inspires me, I cannot shake my drug addiction. I'd rather be high on Klonopin than NOT. I was high on 8 pills when I crashed his car... When I was talking to the police... When I was talking to him. The main thing I remember is that it wasn't a big deal.
It was a booty crash!
A fender bender.
I know a Mexican,
That will happily "ting" that out for $75.
He wasn't having it. I crossed the line. I was unconscious and my mess of a life was pouring into his. He had boundaries. He had standards, and he said no more.
As devastating as I thought the breakup was, it thought me something I'll recognize for the rest of my life: Your joy is not in man, but in you.