Christopher Bloodworth

I think my girlfriend is trying to kill me.

Let me back up a little.

I met Rachael six months ago. I saw her on the far side of the lecture hall in PSYCH 101. The lecture halls where they hold this class at the University of Texas are massive. They’re these 300 capacity monster halls where no one feels as if they’re getting the individual attention they deserve.

So you can understand how stunning Rachael must’ve been to catch my eye from across this giant sea of students.

Stunning… that’s a good word to describe her, because she was that, and more. Seeing her was a breath of fresh air after the year long ordeal that was Jessica. I was still feeling a little sick over my ex, but once I saw Rachael, my heartache took a backseat to the fluttering of butterflies in my stomach.

It might’ve only been something I ate for lunch that day, but I didn’t think so.

I had to introduce myself to Rachael. I had to meet her. It took me several days to screw up the courage to talk to her though. Once I did, everything went smooth. I picked her up for our first date two nights later.

We went out, had drinks, and she moved in.

Kinda fast, right?

Yeah. I thought so too, but she was hot so I didn’t dig any deeper.

Story of my fucking life.

Our relationship started off rocky. We broke up so many times over the course of those first five months that it feels like there wasn’t a single day that passed without Rachael telling me how much she hated me.

I knew it was an abusive relationship, but she never left, and she never cheated.

That’s the important thing. No matter what was going on in our relationship, she was always there. She was always present.

Now though… now, I think she’s trying to kill me.

We quit fighting about a month ago, but I can still see that old hate flare up at times. I’ll ask her about her day, and instead of answering me, she’ll just give me that look. That hateful fucking look.

I can see the hatred burning in her eyes and it hurts me.

I’d rather things go back to the way they were. I’d rather her tell me how much she hates me and how she wants to leave me. Anything would be better than the silent treatment.

When we have lunch, Rachael doesn’t eat anymore. She just stares at me.

I’ll offer her a sandwich and she won’t say anything.

I actually think that’s how she’s killing me.

The lunch meat. Poison.

Rachael’s doing it on purpose. She knows that I love sandwiches. I think she also knows that Jessica and I used to eat sandwiches together.

I love Rachael with all my heart, I really do, but Jessica kept better.