Give Up The Wine And Dine Or You’re Gonna Whine

My ex-girlfriend and I were together for six years. Near the end of our relationship, the atmosphere was miles from what it normally was. Her idea of a happy home, which I paid for for the two of us, basically became her and her friends every weekend on the couch drinking wine until they all fell asleep or were too drunk to get home.

I worked at this time in a s***ty restaurant in town, earning just about minimum wage. It was back-breaking work — long hours, thankless jobs, unpredictable shift changes because the boss thought it was a fantastic idea to lease us to a pub on the opposite end of the road, etc.

One night, I returned home from a grueling thirteen-hour shift at almost 1:00 am. The bus I was supposed to get didn’t turn up, so I had to wait even longer for the next. Knowing I had to face another shift the next morning, my only real desire right then was to sleep. The second I entered, however, I was greeted by my girlfriend, her friends, and an opened bottle of wine.

Me: “Hey, I need to be up fairly early tomorrow, so can we wrap this up, please?”

Girlfriend: “Hey, darling. Of course, we’ll be done soon.”

“Soon” pretty much meant not at all soon from my experiences.

Me: “Well, you’re not working tomorrow, are you? I am, so I just want to—”

I stopped talking when I notice that she and her friends were just fixing a vacant stare at me. I realized none of what I was saying was getting through, so I just dropped my stuff and headed into the bedroom. Being that my girlfriend is Swedish, she scoffed and said, “Han är på dåligt humör igen,” which means, “He’s in a bad mood again,” accompanied by her and her friends laughing at my expense. Sure, because wanting to sleep in the bed I paid for so I can pay for your endless nights with the ladies is such a tall ask.

I lay in bed, unable to sleep because of the noise they were kicking up. After about twenty minutes, I got up, got dressed, grabbed my keys, and phoned a friend to crash at his.

Thankfully, he was okay with it, but evidently, my girlfriend was not.

Girlfriend: “Where are you going?”

Me: “Somewhere where you are not. When I come back, I want you out of my f****** house.”

I wasn’t kidding around this time. Of course, she tried to make amends there and then and practically threw her friends out, but it was too little too late. I stayed at my friend’s house that night, quit my job the following morning, and returned to find my now ex-girlfriend gone.

That month was Hell, but I was able to find a much better, well-paying job soon after, and I met a colleague who would later become my beloved wife, who respects and treats me like a king.