Kevin was a good guy. He was kind, funny, and fun to hang out with, but there was something else. In hindsight, he was probably interesting because of the incidents in his life. However, as his girlfriend, those incidents only came with anxiety and worry. You know, like when you hear stories of an adventurous and naughty kid, and you are thrilled by the stories, but you’re grateful that’s not your child because you wouldn’t know how to deal with the situation? I felt that way about Kevin.
In addition to being fun, Kevin was also academically gifted. You wouldn’t guess it immediately; it was mostly evidenced by the knowledge of the schools he had attended. He went to a prestigious national school on merit and proceeded to the university on merit. He hung out with mostly people with a similar background, which masked his shortcomings.
The first time I had to deal with his drama, we had been dating for three weeks. He went to a party and came back three days later. I was worried sick about his well-being. His phone number wasn’t going through, and I had no way to reach him. I had no reason to think he was cheating, but it was a better excuse than thinking something bad had happened to him. I oscillated between the two lines of thinking.
He showed up three days later at my door. He was in hideous, baggy clothes and had a black eye. I froze when I opened the door.
“What happened to you?” I asked him.
“I was mugged while coming out of the club, and they stole my phone,” said Kevin.
I tended to his wounds and made him some food. I felt so guilty for thinking the worst of him. He got better after a couple of days and also got a new phone. Less than two weeks later, he went out with his friends. This time, he showed up at my place at six o’clock in the morning with a bloody shirt and a few bruises.
“Were you mugged again?” I asked him.
“No, bar fight. I had to defend my friend’s honour,” Kevin proudly said.
“So what happened?” I asked him.
“Some guys were talking trash about my friend, and we had to set them straight,” Kevin replied, dabbing one of his bruises.
“So you threw the first punch?” I asked him.
“Someone had to do it,” said Kevin.
“I can’t even deal with you right now. Next time, call in advance before coming to my door at this hour,” I snapped.
“Wait, where’s my phone?” Kevin asked as he looked in his pockets for it.
He didn’t have it—he lost it in the fight. I didn’t have the heart to sympathize with that loss; I was too angry about the bar fight.
A few weeks later, on a Friday night, I got a call from him. He had been hanging out with his friends when he called, but he wasn’t the one on the phone.
“Hey, babe,” I answered.
“Hey. I’m Kev’s friend, Josh,” the caller responded.
“Hi, Josh. Where’s Kev?” I asked.
“He’s told us to call you. Could you send 10k so that we can bail him out? He’s been arrested,” Josh replied.
“Why has Kev been arrested?” I asked, worried.
“They went to get weed with two other friends, but the plug set them up. We’ve raised the rest of the money to get them out, but we’re short of 10k,” Josh explained.
I begrudgingly sent the money. Kev came straight to my place after that.
“Thanks, babe. You really came through for me,” said Kevin.
“Kevin, how long have we been dating?” I asked him.
“We’re almost at the two-month mark,” Kevin responded.
“Why is it always something with you? Let’s talk about today. You know how much I hate weed, and you roped me into your weed troubles. I will need you to pay back that 10k,” I told Kevin.
“I know, babe, but it was the plug who set us up. I promise I will pay you back,” said Kevin.
I had normal expectations about the kind of problems we’d have in our relationship, but I didn’t imagine I would live in a constant state of anxiety. He seemed to be frequently caught up in some unforeseen drama. I couldn’t keep up with it, so I ended the relationship.
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