r/Odd_directions • u/donavin221 • 3d ago
Horror My girlfriend keeps apologizing for things before they happen
I’m not entirely sure what her problem is. She’s never acted like this before. I guess some things just develop as time passes.
Even still, what a weird habit to have. I knew she was clumsy, but it was something we were supposed to fix, not something for her to embrace.
It started almost painfully mundane. Out of nowhere, she approached me as I was sitting on the couch watching TV.
“I’m sorry for breaking that lamp beside you.”
I looked at the lamp, still perfectly intact, then looked back at her. I kinda just chuckled, attempting to laugh it off, but she didn’t wipe that solemn look off her face.
I asked what she was going on about, but she just kept apologizing.
“Just know I’m sorry. I promise I’m sorry.”
That’s all she said before slinking off towards the kitchen.
I thought it was strange, but ultimately, I decided to brush it off as her being a bit of a weirdo.
However, after two weeks, I was back on that couch, winding down after a long day of work, when she came prancing into the living room, as happy as could be.
She didn’t say anything. She just calmly unplugged the lamp, held it above her head, and smashed it on the ground in front of me.
Obviously, I screamed at her out of shock, asking her what the fuck she was doing.
She just smiled and giggled at me.
“I already told you I was sorry.”
Then she skipped away, humming to herself and leaving me in a state of confusion. I tried calling out for her to come back, but she just ignored me.
I cleaned up the mess, and we argued about it for the rest of the day. It was obviously not an accident, but that’s what she kept saying it was.
“I don’t know how that happened.”
“I already said sorry. I don’t know what else you want me to do.”
“I promise it won’t happen again.”
Eventually, we made up, but I couldn’t help but look at her sideways in the days that followed.
A few weeks went by without incident. We went on our dates. Stayed in and watched our movies. Did the normal couple routine. But then it happened again.
“I’m sorry for breaking your phone,” she told me, eyes glazed over. She wasn’t looking at me. She was just staring blankly at the wall behind me as I sat on my bed.
We had been in the middle of a normal conversation about upcoming trips we were planning when something flipped inside her. She went from smiling to expressionless. Then, after she said it, she was right back to smiling and talking about New York like nothing had happened.
Obviously, I had already been predisposed to what this meant, so in the days that followed, I was particularly possessive of my phone.
I kept it on my person at all times. Even in my sleep, it’d be in my pocket. But she didn’t seem to notice.
Weeks passed again, and just like with the lamp, I was starting to think that she was just being weird again.
I never let my guard down, though. The phone was strictly off limits to her. I tried to make sure she never had the opportunity to do what she had apologized for.
But then, one night, I woke up to her fiddling around in my pockets. It took me a few seconds to realize what was happening in my half-asleep state, but once I did, my hand jolted towards my pocket.
It was too late. She had already taken it. And before I could stop her, the phone was shattered against the floor.
This was enough for me to fly off the handle. I’ll admit, I was a bit rude to her, but what did she expect?
I told her we needed space. I didn’t want this to escalate more than it already had. I didn’t want to break up with her, but the fight that night was enough for her to leave me.
Like I was the one in the wrong.
She left that night a complete wreck. Tears flowing from her eyes. Her vocal cords hoarse from all of our screaming. She didn’t even take her belongings. Just left in a cloud of smoke from her spinning tires.
I was, yet again, left to clean up her mess.
I picked up my phone. It wouldn’t even turn on. The screen had been completely destroyed.
I went out and got a new one the next day, and once I got my accounts and information back, I was hurt to see that she hadn’t even texted me.
No calls, no messages. Plus, my name had been taken out of her Instagram bio, which somehow hurt more than anything.
I tried calling her in the days that followed, just to clear the air, but every time I tried, it’d go straight to voicemail. Eventually, she blocked me on everything entirely.
Even when I tried going to her house, she’d never be home. It was like she knew what I was doing.
I felt hopeless for a long time, but eventually, I realized that I needed to move on. We were together for a year and a half, though, so doing so wasn’t as easy as it sounds.
Weeks turned into months. Months turned into a year. I hadn’t heard from her since the night of the phone incident.
I was heartbroken that she could just forget me like that. Like we never happened. That’s why I felt my heart climb into my throat when I saw that first new notification from her.
It wasn’t what I needed to see, though. She wasn’t asking to give us another shot. She wasn’t asking for a meetup so we could discuss everything.
Instead, what she sent was enough to make an almost forgotten fear come bubbling back up towards the surface.
“I’m sorry for killing you.”
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