Buttercup

I finished off my seven page text message and set my phone on the counter. Craig looked over at me with a disapproving glance and I looked away. There was a cup of beer in front of me and I reached up with my right hand and took a swig of it. Because that’s what you do when there’s beer in front of you; you fucking drink it. You don’t ask what kind it is, or who poured it, or if there’s drugs in it. It’s beer, you’re a man; drink it.

Everyone was talking. I was staring at the screen of my phone, waiting for it to light up. Waiting to read what it said. Emily would most likely just argue back with me, telling me that we were bad for each other. Just like everyone has always told us. Just like every time she dumps me. Because we fucking hate everyone, but we’re the only two people in the world that can tolerate one another for longer than a week.

Once we get to the week mark, we start getting on each other’s nerves. And by nerves, I mean we start thinking about elaborate ways to kill each other. And that’s fucked up. But nothing really matters as long as you’re not alone. I mean, that’s what I’ve always been told.

You never, ever, want to end up in life completely alone. Because even if you hate the person you’re with, at least you have someone to argue with. At least there’s someone there to listen to you bitch. Because if not, you just start bitching to yourself. And then you’re rude to the newspaper boy. You sit on your porch with a slingshot and try to hit him with rocks. You go out for fast food and you snap at the zit faced teenager just trying to make some money to buy a car. You bite off the old lady’s face at Wal-Mart because she never went to computer school, so putting in the codes for your bananas takes five extra seconds.

That’s what happens when you’re alone.

You’re a fucking dick.

Just like me.

The bartender walked by me and looked at my phone. “Are you watching something on there that no one else can see?”

“Huh?”

“You’re staring at your phone like you’re trying to blow it up.”

“Oh.” I paused. “Uh, no. I’m just waiting. For a phone call from someone.”

“That’s mature.” Craig snorted. “You guys are going to start calling and fighting rather than texting?”

I ignored him. “My girlfriend and I are in an argument right now.”

“Your ex-girlfriend.”

“Fuck you, Craig.”

The bartender laughed slightly. “Hey, if you need a girlfriend, I got that little one in the back. You can have her. You can do whatever the fuck you want with her. I’m getting really sick of her.”

“The one with the Mohawk?” I asked.

“How do you know I’m talking about Buttercup?”

I laughed. “Buttercup?”

He wasn’t laughing now. He looked furious. “How do you know?”

“She was outside earlier. Picking up cigarette butts.”

“Smoking a fucking joint is what she was doing. Wasn’t picking up no god damn cigarette butts.”

I shook my head. “No. I’m pretty sure she was just out there picking up butts. I didn’t see her smoking anything.” I lied.

This guy right here. He was one of those guys that treats everyone like shit when he’s alone. I thought he was being kind of asshole at that moment, but later when I thought about it, I realized he was the asshole of all assholes. The one that would literally make little girls cry.

He eyed me down. “Was she bothering you?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “No. She was just having conversation. Gave me shit about leaving my butt on the floor. Said that I was gonna have to pick them up if she saw me leave another one.”

He rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath, but I wasn’t listening. My phone was lit up and buzzing on the counter. It was vibrating because it was ringing. I grinned inwardly and picked it up, pressing it to my ear and answering it.

“Hello?”

“Matt.” Emily snapped.

“Yeah?”

“We can’t do this anymore. I know I’ve said it so many times. But we are so unhealthy for each other, it’s not even funny. You and I aren’t going to work out. We need to just stop. We need to stop with the texting and the calling. I love you but we can’t make this work.” She paused. “I just want you to know that there are better things we could be doing with our time other than sending eight page text messages arguing about the fact that we could be potentially good for one another. Our lease is up the apartment next month. I’m moving back in with my parents. I know that you’re not going to be back from the tour for a while. Is there something you want me to do with your stuff?”

I was speechless. Fucking speechless. She’d always threatened to move out. But she never actually seemed like she was going to go through with it. What do you say when someone just outright tells you they’re moving out and you need to find something to do with your shit?

What the fuck do you say to that? Absolutely nothing. You stand there with the phone pressed tightly against your cheek, praying to something that you don’t start bawling on the phone.

“Matt?” Her voice echoed in my ear. “Matt? Are still there?”

No. I wasn’t there. I couldn’t be. I was nowhere. I wasn’t even me. I pulled the phone away from my ear and pocketed it without even ending the call. I walked back past the bar and out the front doors of the venue. I walked around the side of it and came up to the tour bus. I opened the unlocked door and went inside.

“Is anyone here?”

No answer.

I sat down on the edge of my bed. I put my head in my hands. And I cried. I cried like a little fucking girl. I cried because I couldn’t hold it in anymore. Everything was so fucking wrong. It wasn’t even the fact that Emily and I were over. We’d been over a few months after we started. Everyone knew that we hated each other. We knew it. We just stuck together because we both wanted to prove everyone wrong. And that’s what our relationship turned into. Was this stupid fucking thing where we were just using each other to prove to everyone that we could stay in a relationship.

I wanted to show my mom that I could tour and still have a girlfriend. Emily wanted to prove to her parents that she really wasn’t a slut, and that she could keep a boyfriend around, even if she treated them like shit.

I jumped at the sound of the bus door. I immediately stood up and made my way into the bathroom, throwing cold water on my face and staring at myself in the mirror.

For the first time in three years, I was single. And I was still unhappy. The whole time Emily and I were together, I just kept thinking, one day it will get better. One day. I kept thinking, maybe all it has to take is us breaking up and we will go our separate ways and we’ll find happiness somewhere else. Maybe that’s all it has to take.

But here I was, just being miserable and lonely again. I opened the bathroom door, expecting to see Craig on the bus, but there was no one there.

“Hello?” I paused. “Craig?”

But no one said anything. I shrugged and lay back down in my bunk. Everyone was probably getting sick of my shit. And I understood. I knew that I was being a fucking prick because my life was shit. I knew that. And I also knew that it needed to change. That today was like a milestone and it was over and done. I was done with being a douche bag.

I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket. Just once this time, though. Which meant I probably had a text message. I pulled it out of my pocket and opened it up. From Craig, of course.

u ok?

I typed back, yeah, fine. you guys comin back to the bus?

I didn’t get a text back. Instead, the bus door came open and everyone bustled in. No one really said a word. Took a piss, got a drink of water, took their clothes off. We were all tired. And I think that everyone was just hoping that I wasn’t going to be a dick.

And that’s exactly what I had decided.

I picked up my phone again and opened up a text message.

let me know if you need any help moving, i will see if my mom can help you when she gets off work. if you could just take my stuff to her house, that would be great. stay out of trouble.

I sent the message to Emily and waited for her reply. But all I got back was an ok, thanks.

And I set my phone down in the crook of my bed. That was the end of us. We were done. Neither one of us could handle the relationship anymore.

“Hey, anyone still up?” I asked.

I got a couple groans. “Yeah.”

“Are we leaving tomorrow? Or tonight?”

“I’m not sure. Depends on if Derek feels like driving tonight. I’m fucking wiped out and I think everyone else is. So we might just anchor here for the night.”

“Did anyone lock the door?”

“Yeah, I think so. Go to sleep, Matt.”

I nodded. I needed to sleep. It was late and I was tired and I had dealt with way too much shit that night. It was like breaking up with Emily like usual, except this time we didn’t have to talk about getting back together. And this was the thing in my life that I needed to change. Our relationship was what needed to be changed.

I put my hands behind my head and thought about how different things were going to be. How I might actually talk with the guys and have fun writing songs with them because I wouldn’t be glued to my god damn phone. I thought about how when some girl was hitting on me at the bar, I could take my chances and sleep with her, or at least try to. I thought about how I would actually get to sleep at night because I wouldn’t have to worry about waking up to nasty texts from Emily.

I thought about how my mom might actually be proud of me for actually getting somewhere in life. I thought about how Craig and I might start getting long again. There were a lot of things that I had to think about. So many things, in fact that I couldn’t fall asleep. And all night long, these thoughts were just reeling in my head, like a little mouse on a wheel trying to give electricity to an entire house.

That’s how I felt that night. And then I felt freedom, like I could absolutely anything I wanted to. Emily and I were no longer together. I could fuck whoever I wanted. I could fuck some girl tomorrow night. I could fuck some girl tonight.

I could go find that girl with the blonde Mohawk and do her if I wanted to. Literally, anything was in the reach of my fingertips at that moment.

But instead of getting out of bed and going for it, I remained underneath the cheap ass blankets and I just thought about doing it. And in my head, I thought about tomorrow.

Because that’s what I was always doing; thinking about tomorrow.