I guess this could go under one of those circumstances of saying too much too soon.

Here it is, just over a week later and she's gone. Well, she's not gone gone. I know where she is. She's in the apartment. It's just that I'm not.

No friends, Steve-o got the boot. Here's how it went down (This may not be exactly how it happened, I'm sure other sources could be tapped to find out, but this is how it pretty much unfolded for me):

Tuesday afternoon, I take my girlfriend to get her check from work cashed. She cashes it and buys a few items.

As we are getting home, I noticed that one of said items was a home pregnancy test. I questioned her about it, and she just gave me this look like, "Yep... that's what it is." So we go back up to the apartment. She goes into the bathroom, supposedly pees on the stick (I'm sorry, I know that's not very glamorous... but essentially that's all it is... peeing on a stick). We wait for three minutes, seems like three days. She goes into the bathroom, comes out, sits down on the couch and lights a cigarette. Doesn't even say a word. I finally give her a look like, "Well?"

"Oh... I'm pregnant." She goes back to her cigarette. I just sit there stunned for a moment. Then I get up, try to comfort her. I get the cold shoulder. So I go to the other room, thinking she needed to be alone. I lied down on the bed and stared at the window for a while. Millions of thoughts going through my head. How am I going to support this child? How am I going to tell my parents? How am I going to support another human being? I can barely support myself.

She walks in and starts yelling at me. I basically tell her that I would support her the very best I could. In return, she tells me to get the fuck out of the apartment (She went on to tell my mother that I wasn't being very supportive.... Apparently telling somebody that you're going to be supportive isn't good enough... I'm not sure what she wanted me to do... perhaps start filing the paperwork on the kid's college fund right then and there)?

After she yells and screams and tells me to get the fuck out, I decided it might be a good time to... well... get the fuck out. She's emotional, it's understandable. She needs time to think.

I drive to my sis' house and tell her what's going on. She gives me some comfort and advice, and I go back to Amanda. All Amanda has to say is the following:

a.) I don't need you anymore.

b.) I want your shit out of my apartment.

If I had only known how much she didn't need me, I probably would've started packing right there. But no... fate likes their little tragi-comedies to play out nice and right.

I spent half of the night in my car, then I went back to the apartment. She wasn't there. So I managed to get 3 hours sleep in before she came back with Patrick and told me to get out again.

Oh wait... Who's Patrick? Let me back up here. Patrick is a friend of Amanda's that Amanda hadn't seen in over a year and a half. Apparently, Amanda's ex before me didn't want her hanging out with Patrick. I, of course, thought that her ex was just being controlling (Which he was known to be), so I had no problem with Amanda hanging out with an old friend. They had been hanging out for two weeks. The past two weeks, Amanda had been growing really cold towards me. To you writing students out there, that's called foreshadowing.

The next day I meet my sister for breakfast. After breakfast, we hang out at her house. Then I decided to get my stuff. I called the apartment, but there wasn't any answer. Oh well, she must be gone.

My sis and I go to the apartment. I walk in, and notice that Amanda's shoes are there. She's probably asleep, and the last thing you want to do is wake up an emotional, pregnant woman. They can be downright brutal. I peek into the bedroom... And there's Amanda. And Patrick. In bed together. Naked.

I tell my sis to stay back, then quietly work our way out of the apartment. I call again and leave a message so they know when we'll be back.

My sister and I go back at that time, and start packing up my stuff. As I'm packing I noticed two things:

a.) Patrick and Amanda driving by slowly, checking to see if I was in the apartment.

and b.) Patrick's stuff was already moved in.

The guy's stuff was already moved in before I was moved out. I had been out of the apartment for less than 24 hours and this guy was already moved in? This seemed curious to me.

I'm just gonna' cut through the long-winded bullshit, because I'm tired of recalling last week. Essentially here's what happened: She called me and told me she wasn't pregnant (Which seemed to elicit a collective "No shit" from all of my friends), my dad and I finished moving me out, I lost my kitty cat, Amanda's been bossy and moody and I've been... neutral.

How has she been bossy and moody? Today, we did our last bit of business together: the exchanging of the keys. I gave her back her apartment key, she gave me back the key to my sis' place. I also found one of her CD's in my car. Now, if I were the vindictive type, I would tossed the fucker out of my window and forgotten about it. But... I dunno... That's not the type of person I am.

So I show up at the apartment, knock on the door. She opens the door, and without any words, hands me my sis' key, takes her key and CD, then slams the door in my face. I can understand the need to avoid an awkward situation, but that was just plain rude.

I shrugged it off and went back to my car. In my back seat was a bunch of her stuff she had left there. So, I was nice and brought the stuff back up to her apartment. But I decided that having a door slammed in my face once a day was more than enough. So I left the stuff in front of her door, knocked on it, and walked away. As I walked away I heard the door open, a pause, the shuffling of things, and then her slamming the door extra hard, trying to make up for the distance between my face and the door.

I've tried to keep my cool during this whole process. I was played. I understand that now. Five months was thrown down the drain because I was too blind to see that there was something going on behind my back (It was obvious though... that's what sucks).

So now I'm living with my sister. I'm job hunting, trying to start my life anew. Because that's all you can really do, isn't it? Move on and pick up the pieces.

If she still reads my website... Amanda... I'm not sure why you're acting so immature and hostile. I never said an angry word towards you. I never hit you or called you names... not even when you stabbed me in the back. I think the thing that hurts the most was that you weren't even mature enough to say goodbye.

Sitting here, late night... I'm left with two things to reflect on.

The first is an entry in Amanda's diary. It says the following:

"anyway, i'm not going to name his name, but steve is a really great guy. i really don't think i deserve a guy like him. but, i'm happy that he wants me and glad that i have him. babe, if you're reading this, i just want to say that i love you and i'll never hurt you."

Whoops.

But I digress...

The last thing playing over in my mind is a post she made on a forum she hangs out at. I'm not sure what masochistic urge made me look, but I did. And sure enough there was a post made earlier today. And I think it pretty much signifies her feelings about me, and how much these past five months have meant to her:

"i just wanted to announce that as of last night, i am now happily engaged to my wonderful boyfriend. it took us a while to get here, but i couldn't be more happy."

It took less than a day to move him in, and less than a week to get engaged.

I personally wish the two the best of luck. I hold no ill-will towards either of them. It might be because I'm such a loser. Or it might be because I'm a nice guy. Either way, I wish them the best of luck.

Especially to Patrick. Hopefully she's more gentle with you than she was with me, man. Good luck.

And with that, I commit myself to my bed.