The Crazy Switch

I get out of the car begrudgingly. Winter has just started and I'm still in denial; my outfit is more geared for fall. I don't see why I have to go into the grocery store with him?? We're just getting a frozen pizza.

I meander through the fruit aisle. I think he's picking up some lettuce. I really hope this is a quick in and out.

"Hey!" I hear him say, and turn around. A woman is walking over to him. She smiles. He puts his arm around her and gives her a kiss on the cheek. Cousin? Old friend? I don't know her...

They chit chat for a bit, so I start to walk over. I figure it's the polite thing to do. They're talking about nothing really - his last trip to New York; a mutual friend that neither of them have spoken to in a while. It's idle boring chatter. So, I stand there. Maybe this will entice him to do a quick exit of the conversation so we can get out of here.

He introduces me: "This is my friend...."

Excuse me? Friend? Did I just hear right? I look to this woman that I don't know; there is no sign of recognition. She's never heard of me. Which...is fine, if she's not a good friend. But he put his arm around her and kissed her on the cheek. Which means...she knows someone that he knows -- and knows them well? This second-degree of separation that she represents has somehow demoted me to 'friend' status? This is ridiculous.

I smile politely and walk away. Why wouldn't he just introduce me as his girlfriend? Prick. I start to comb the aisles to see if there is anyone else I know at this grocery store so I can get the hell out of here. Let's see how much he likes eating frozen pizza all by his lonesome self...

I can feel it happening. My mind whirling: what does it mean? What does it mean? Could this woman be a friend of his ex? Does his ex know I exist? Do I even want to be with him anymore if he's not loud and proud to show me off? Anxiety begins to build and boil with anger. I'm potentially combustible. The next person that crosses my path may not live to regret it.

I frantically roam the aisles trying to create as much space between me and him as I possibly can. When I can no longer bear it; I grab a package of paper towels, plant my face into them and scream (muffled -- thank god!) at the top of my lungs. This continues for a good 20 seconds or so. When I'm done, I look to my left to see a small child staring at me perplexed. He's silent. I apologize to him for any permanent psychological affects that this may have on his growing psyche.

We call it The Crazy Switch; and men have an innate capacity to flick it every single time.

Two months later when the relationship had successfully crashed and burned; I'm sitting in my friend's gorgeous penthouse and drinking my sorrows away with copious amounts of wine. She's making me tacos in an effort to cheer me up.

"Am I crazy?" I ask her. I felt like I was on a downward psychotic path the last two months or so. Ever since that moment in the grocery store my mind would spin with distrust. The anxiety was unbearable. The part of myself that was stable and centred was completely gone. Any asshole that demotes you in public to 'friend' status deserves to be strung by his balls.

I am currently hating him; and am three glasses of wine in.

"Yes!" she says.

I look to my left; Consuela shrugs her shoulders. I look back to my friend to see where she is going with this. After all, we're all a little crazy.

"Yes!" she continues, "You're crazy, I'm crazy. They MAKE us crazy with the things they do."

I plunk my empty wine glass on the counter and she fills me up. We're going to watch The Bachelor and eat until we have to run to the vomitorium.

She continues her speech while frying the ground beef:

"It's not like you woke up one morning and said, I'm gonna act like a crazy person today!! No. It's not like that. You start to notice stuff they're doing -- sneaky stuff; and it f**ks with your head. Because they LIE. It's not like they're going to say to you: Yeah, I'm seeing someone else because I'm a big fat pussy and I don't want to be alone in case this doesn't work out -- so, on some unconscious level I've justified why I'm still keeping my options open; and I'll lie to you until I figure it out".

I ponder what she says for a moment. He did lie to me...

I help her chop up the tomatoes and the lettuce. It's been a while since I've had tacos. The meat is starting to grill; and I realize that I'm starving.

"No, Karen. No! They MAKE you crazy because they are pathetic lying bastards. Take Asshole for example,"

She's referring to her Ex. We call him Asshole.

"I was with him for four years. Four BLISSFUL years. We had no problems. Everything was fine. And then, one day -- there was a shift. And, I woke up feeling anxious; because I knew something was wrong. But he's not going to tell me somethings wrong -- because he's a lying cheating bastard -- so I have to go looking for it. I start scrolling through his blackberry; seeing not-so-friendly/flirtatious texts from OUR MUTUAL FRIEND; and I tell myself it's nothing. How many times did I lie to myself because HE was LYING to ME? How many times did I tell myself that it's just a text message; it doesn't mean anything. Well, it did mean something. And it made me crazy because I knew something was wrong -- but because he was lying to me; I went nuts trying to find the answer. So, no. You aren't crazy because you randomly wake up one day bored and are trying to give yourself something to do. No! They MAKE YOU CRAZY!".

Oh, if the Dalai Lama were here I'm pretty sure a tear would form in his eye.

She was right. Dead on. I couldn't argue with her. And as I downed my 4th glass of wine the pain began to subside. We ate tacos until we couldn't move, and laughed at the girls on The Bachelor. A good winter night when all was said and done.

But two months before; when the switch was flicked, and I would have done anything to alleviate my mind whirling and the anxiety that was building up inside of me -- I had a different point of view. I didn't ingest the message that he was sending me: that I'm not important -- and that I could possibly be in some real danger of getting seriously hurt. No. I couldn't compute that message because it was in direct conflict of all his other actions -- the good actions that I so desperately wanted to believe WERE the truth.

So, as I shooed away the little boy that was staring at me funny, I turned around.

There he was.

"You ready?" he asks. He's smiling. He smells great.

"Of course!" I say.

With that, he puts his arm around me and we walk towards the cash register. I quietly dismiss my momentary lapse of judgement --because, after all, friends don't walk around grocery stores with their arms around each other. This was a public declaration of how he felt about me! In this moment, despite all the warning signs, I chose to dismiss one of the many red flags that had started to come my way.