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“Number two: I can’t be with a woman who does not possess even an ounce of spontaneity in her body.”
I gasp. “I can be spontaneous!”
I just need to plan for it first…
Todd does not react; he just keeps reading.
“Reason three: I need to be with someone fun, who isn’t afraid to let her hair down.”
I point to my head of brown waves flowing over my shoulders. “My hair is down. And am I not fun?”
Todd proceeds to talk for a further twenty-eight minutes about every part of my character that he doesn’t like.
I am too nit-picky. Too clean. Too polite. My voice is too soft. I eat too much. My sense of humor is too goofy. The list goes on and on.
Maybe he’s right. I am not spontaneous. Because if I was, I’d smack him with the drinks menu and toss my drink over his face for being so rude.
What kind of man takes a woman to the nicest restaurant in the city, only to read out a list that would make War and Peace look like a children’s novel?
Instead of letting off steam and throwing a tantrum, I sit and take it.
When he’s done, I take a final sip of my bubbly and pick up my purse. “Well, thank you for taking the time to write such a detailed list.”
Todd points at me. “And that is exactly why we should break up.”
I frown again. “Why?”
“Because most women show some emotion in your position. I mean, after all these years we’ve been together… you don’t even shed a tear? What the heck is wrong with you?”
I slide my chair back across the carpeted floor and rise to a dignified stand. “Well, if that’s everything, I expect you’re paying tonight.”
I should have had the lobster.
Todd’s eyes grow dull, and he looks at me like I really did smack him across the face. As if I’m the one breaking up with him.
I ball my trembling hands into tight fists. There’s only a shred of self-control left to stop me from making a scene, and I intend to preserve it.
I turn on my heel and walk out with my head held high.
I will not cry. I will not cry.
With every step, my heart breaks a little more. I move faster. I’m never one to make a scene. Especially somewhere as nice as this.
I expected him to put a ring on it, but he embarrassed me publicly and attacked every aspect of my personality. How could I have been so clueless?
Well, good riddance to him.
As planned, I drive through Wendy’s and order the biggest shake they have. Then I sit in the parking lot and try to cry.
Nothing happens.
Honestly, I haven’t been able to cry since my grandmother died nineteen years ago. And a part of me is glad I can’t shed a tear right now.
Because he’s not worth it.
One thing sticks out, though. Of all the criticism, it’s the thought that I’m not fun or spontaneous that bothers me the most.
I am totally fun.
