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Sunday, December 23, 2012

IWTBU

I stared at my phone in confusion as I read the latest text message from my boyfriend of two years. 

“IWTBU”

I stared up at my computer monitor.  “What the fuck does IWTBU mean?” I asked aloud.

It was a Friday afternoon and I was sitting at work, staring at the black screen with the white writing.  I could feel a headache coming on as I closed my eyes briefly.  That’s when my phone beeped with the cryptic message from my boyfriend.

After a couple of minutes of chewing my lower lip, pondering the possible meanings for the initials IWTBU, I eventually gave up trying to decipher his message and replied with “OK.  See you when I get home.”

As I turned to the pile of papers on my desk, my phone beeped once more. 

“I think you miss understood what I said.  I Want To Break Up.”

I felt numb.  I knew things hadn’t been great with us lately.  He was constantly yelling at me, saying degrading things, talking to cam girls more than me, viewing porn religiously and essentially telling me that I’m useless and worthless.  I was tired of fighting with him and would often just respond to him with “Yeah, OK.  Whatever” before walking away to cool down. 

As I look back now, I guess his Twitter page should have been an indication.  He never talked to me on it even when I was at work and would make witty comments or would send him messages via it.  He always preferred to tweet with some naked model that he had befriended or one of our mutual friends.  I could never bring up how much it hurt me that he would rather chat to a cam girl then to me because it made me seem petty and jealous; two traits he always hated in women.

I slammed my phone down on my desk as I fought back tears.  It wasn’t tears of sadness that my relationship was over.  It was tears of anger that he didn’t have the balls to tell me this to my face, instead opting to do so via a text message.

As the hours of my day slowly slipped away, my anger grew.  I hated technology.  It made everything too easy.  No one sent hand written letters anymore, when they could get an instant response via e-mail.  No one bothered to call anymore when they could just throw it up on Twitter or Facebook or send it in a text.  No one seemed to care about emotions.  And the worst kind of technology emotion was getting dumped via text message.

I began to pack up my work station for the weekend.  I had five minutes left in this hell hole before I boarded the train for my nightly commute.  I wasn’t looking forward to sitting on the train with a bunch of strangers feeling the way that I felt. 

Dragging my feet I headed towards the train station.  People I passed seemed to get the hint that I was not in the best of moods.  They brushed past me, going about their business, avoiding eye contact with me. 

The train arrived on time and I boarded it, taking a seat at the rear of the carriage.  I felt the tears begin to swell in my eyes as I remembered when he use to come into the city to join me on the train so that I wasn’t lonely on my journey home. 

I pulled my phone out of my bag.  Looking past the now cracked screen, I pulled up his message as a gorgeous woman sat down next to me. 

“IWTBU” I said to myself, my lips trembling as I read the message.

“Tough break.”

I glanced up at the gorgeous blonde.  Her long lean legs were crossed at the ankle and her hair was tied into a tight ponytail.  She was dressed in a pinstripe suit and her makeup was flawless.  She looked like one of the girls my boyfriend liked talking to.

“I’m sorry?” I said, unsure of what she meant.

“Tough break.  Getting the IWTBU message.  Been there myself.  It’s always hard.  But the trick is not to let it get you down.”

I snorted.  “After two years of being with this guy, I think it should get me down.  He didn’t have the courage to say it to my face.”

“Oh sweetie, all men are cowards,” the blonde replied, admiring her perfectly rounded French tipped nails.  “Why else do you think the saying goes ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned’?  It’s because we hold the power.  You just need to know how to harness it.”

“Harness it?” I asked dumbfounded by the conversation I was having.

The woman smiled at me, her perfect white teeth shining brightly between her luscious full lips.  “It’s rather simple, my dear,” she said sweetly, picking up her bag.  “Make him realize he is nothing without you.  You have to make him suffer by making him realize that no woman will ever want him.”

The train stopped and the tall, leggy blonde got off.  She gave me a friendly wave as she passed my window before disappearing into the night.

Her words haunted me the rest of the trip home.  As I got off the train and made my way to my car, I could hear her voice in my ear.  “Make him realize that he’s nothing without you” echoed inside my mind.  “You have to make him suffer by making him realize that no woman will ever want him.”

As I started the car I began to wonder what she could have possibly meant by that.

My anger reached boiling point when I got to my house.  In the drive way was his car.  If he thought I was moving out of the house I bought with my own money because he was too lazy to get of his ass and make a living, he had another thing coming.

I turned off the engine and got out of the vehicle.  I walked across the grass and carefully peered in the front window. 

There he was, sitting on the couch, some blonde bimbo in his lap, grinding her body on top of his.  I could hear her gasps of pleasure and him screaming “Oh yeah. Oh yeah. OH YEAH!” as he exploded deep within her.

I saw red and thundered into the house.

“GET OUT!” I roared, tossing the blonde his shirt that was lying in the hallway.

My boyfriend scrambled to his feet.  “I thought I said we were breaking up,” he cried, his dark eyes narrowing in my direction. 

“Oh you did,” I assured him.  “And I’m fully committed to that decision.  But you see, Joe, his is my house.  My property.  Everything is in my name so you have no right to be here.  I will count to three, before I call the cops.  And rest assured, Joe, there will not be a four.”

Joe looked at me, dazed and confused as I calmly walked into the kitchen.  I heard the front door open and I smiled, glancing over my shoulder to see the blonde, wearing only Joe’s shirt, scrambling for her freedom. 

“One,” I called as I opened a kitchen drawer, smiling as the front door slammed shut.

“Two,” I said as I entered the hall again.

Joe still hadn’t moved, unsure of what was to happen.

I appeared in the doorway to the lounge, blocking the only exit.  “Aww, what a shame.  I gave you ample time to get out,” I said, my voice coming out all sweet and innocent like.

Joe began to stutter, but I silenced him by walking over and pressing a single finger against his lips.

“Just one last kiss, for old time sake,” I said, pressing my lips against his, my free hand reaching down to stroke his erection.

Letting out a guttural moan, I could feel Joe relaxing.

Slowly, I pulled away, my hand still wrapped around his erect cock.

“Three,” I said, pulling the knife out from behind my back.

Joe screamed as the knife sliced his dick clean off.

Blood spurted over my body, running down his legs and onto the carpet.  His screams were high pitched as he dropped to his knees. 

I held up what was left of his cock, eyeing it carefully.  “You know, I use to remember this being bigger,” I commented, rotating it around in my hand.  I turned my head and whistled, calling for my dog. 

“Demon!”

A large Rottweiler rounded the corner, drool dripping from its upper lip, his teeth bared into a snarl.  I tossed the tip of my boyfriend’s penis towards him.  Demon pounced, grabbing it in his strong jaws and running out of the room.

Joe’s wails became louder as he watched his manhood disappear with my pooch. 

I placed a single nail under Joe’s chin, digging it into his flesh and making him look me in the eye.

“Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, Joe,” I said, stepping on his bloody crotch with my high heel shoe. 

Joe’s eyes were filled with tears as he begged to know why.

My eyes gleamed with delight as I leant in close to his face so he could feel my breath on the tip of his nose.

“IWTBU.”

2 comments:

  1. Please excuse me while I cross my legs and try to run away...................

    ReplyDelete
  2. I'm printing this off for my man. Maybe then he'll get off his ass and help around the house.

    ReplyDelete