Breakups have a way of revealing people’s true colors, and my ex’s true color turned out to be fifty shades of delusional.
Months after I’d kicked him out, he reappeared holding a grocery bag like some kind of trophy. Inside? Eggs and bologna – the saddest peace offering imaginable. I accepted it just to end the interaction, already mentally calculating how fast I could throw it away.
The real comedy came hours later when a mutual friend casually mentioned, “Your ex was just bragging about how he’s been keeping your fridge fully loaded.” I couldn’t help but laugh.
In what universe did twelve eggs and some processed meat qualify as “fully loaded”? That moment was the final confirmation I needed – I hadn’t just ended a relationship, I’d escaped an entire alternate reality where his minimal efforts became grand gestures in his own mind.
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