I Am Not Your Stagnant Water

I hadnt spoken to my boyfriend in two weeks. A fourteen-day cold war that felt like a slow suffocation. In a moment of desperate weakness, I decided to join a relationship counseling livestream, hoping some internet guru could tell me how to fix the cracks in an eight-year foundation.

Just as my turn was coming up, someone outbid me, paying to jump the queue.

The caller was anonymous. The moment he spoke, my breath hitched.

"Hey, Coach," the voice said, low and steady. "Ive fallen for a new girl at work. Shes... shes everything my girlfriend isnt. Ive been giving my girl the silent treatment for two weeks just to get some space. Weve been together for eight years. I dont love her anymore, but I dont want to be the villain. How do I end it without looking like the bad guy?"

The voice was so familiar it made my skin crawl. I froze, my heart hammering against my ribs, praying I was wrong. Then the host spoke.

"Listen, man," the host said with a cynical shrug. "If she hasn't reached out after two weeks of silence, shes probably over it too. Just send a 'we need to talk' text and say its not working. If shes mad enough, shell agree, and youre off the hook. Clean break."

The words had barely left the host's mouth when my phone buzzed in my hand.

A text from Tyler.

Joanna, Ive been thinking a lot. I just don't think our personalities mesh anymore. Were spinning our wheels. Let's call it quits. Goodbye.

...

My fingers trembled as I typed back.

[Eight years, Tyler. It took you eight years to realize our personalities don't 'mesh?]

He didnt reply to me. Instead, his voice came through the speakers again, sounding frustrated.

"Coach, that didn't work. Shes pushing back."

"My girlfriend... shes the sensitive, deep type. Shes not the kind of girl to just let go or throw a tantrum. Shell want to talk it out. Shell want to 'fix' it."

He sighed, a long, weary sound, as if I were a heavy coat he was exhausted from wearing.

The live chat was exploding.

Total scumbag. Anonymous coward. Go live with your face on, let your girlfriend see who you really are!

The new girl is gonna regret the day she met you.

Host, kick this loser off. This is nauseating.

The host, leaning into the drama, leaned closer to his mic. "So, this new girl at the office. Does she even like you back? Or are you blowing up your life for a fantasy?"

I held my breath. More than anyone watching, I needed to know. Was this a temporary lapse in judgment? A mid-life crisis at thirty? Or was my world truly ending?

After a few beats of silence, he spoke.

"Actually... were already living together."

The glass in my hand slipped. It shattered against the hardwood, shards grazing my bare ankle, but I didn't feel the sting. I just stared at the screen, my mind reeling.

Living together. We had been in a 'cold war' for fourteen days, and he had already moved in with someone else. Eight years tossed into the trash in two weeks.

"I tried to fight it," Tyler continued, his voice taking on a wistful, romantic tone. "I really did. But every time I went home, I saw her in the same old faded leggings, cooking the same three meals shes made for a decade. It felt... stagnant. Like a pool of standing water."

"But the girl at the office? Shes different. Every day is a new outfit, a new energy. She takes me to these trendy pop-up bars, shows me these viral dance trends... its like shes a jolt of electricity. For the first time in years, my heart is actually beating again. My girlfriend is just... a habit I cant break."

Stagnant. A bitter laugh escaped my throat.

I looked down at my 'faded leggings' and my oversized sweater. I hadn't bought new clothes in three years. Tyler and I were both transplants in this city, working our fingers to the bone to save for a down payment. We wanted a home. A future. And that required sacrifice.

In the beginning, it wasn't like this.

I remember the early years. I used to spend my entire paycheck on silk dresses and designer perfume just to see his eyes light up when I walked into a room. I gave him the best version of myself when the world was still bright.

But life isn't a romantic comedy.

In our third year, Tylers father had a stroke that left him paralyzed. The familys primary earner was gone, and his younger sister, Mia, was still in high school. Tyler crumbled. The weight of his entire family shifted onto his shoulders overnight.

My friends told me to run. My parents begged me to leave. "That kind of baggage will bury a young man," they said. "Hell take you down with him."

But I didn't believe them. I believed in us. I believed we were stronger than bad luck.

I stopped buying the dresses. I stopped going to the salon. I taught myself to cook so we wouldn't waste money on takeout. At first, I was terrible at itI could only master a few basic recipes.

But back then, Tyler would take a bite and grin like Id won a Michelin star. "Jo, youre a genius! This is incredible!"

Id laugh, knowing it was just basic pasta, and Id feel so loved it hurt. I saved every penny of my salary and funneled it to him so he could send it home to Mia and his mother.

Back then, Tylers eyes would get misty, and hed hold my hands tight. "If I ever forget what youve done for me, Joanna, I hope I lose everything. Im never letting you go."

Id hush him, kissing his knuckles. "Don't say things like that. Were a team."

Two years later, his father passed away. I went back to his hometown for the funeral. It was the first time I met his mother and Mia. His mom held me, weeping, calling me a "godsend." Mia called me "Sis" and promised shed repay me someday.

I hugged them back, sincerely. "I don't want repayment. I love Tyler, and I love you guys. Were going to get a big house one day, and youll both come live with us."

I meant it. I worked for it. By this year, our joint savings account was finally enough for a three-bedroom house in the suburbs. I thought the hardship was over. I thought we had finally made it to the "happily ever after."

Instead, I got a betrayal. He was bored of the stability I had bled for. He wanted "electricity."

The tears finally came, hot and stinging, not because I was weak, but because my heart was literally breaking in my chest.

The chat was a riot now.

TRASH MAN! LEAVE!

I feel so bad for the girlfriend. She probably thinks theyre just having a spat.

Bro, I get the boredom, but this is cold-blooded.

Tyler couldn't handle the heat. He disconnected abruptly.

Then, the host called my name. It was my turn to go on air. But the questions I had preparedHow do I get him to talk to me? How do I fix our communication?felt like ash in my mouth.

The truth was out. There was no "fixing" a mirror that had been shattered and stepped on.

I sat in silence on the line for sixty seconds, the host calling "Hello?", before I simply hung up.

I sat on the living room floor until the sun came up.

When 7:00 AM hit, I tried to stand, only to realize the spot on my foot where the glass had hit was swollen and purple. The pain was sharp, but I welcomed it. It was a physical distraction from the void in my soul.

I cleaned the wound, changed into a clean set of clothes, and limped out the door.

I needed to see her. The "bright, fresh" girl who had stolen eight years of my life.

I drove to his office. I sat in the parking lot, my hands gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. And then, I saw them.

Tyler came out the front doors, laughing, his arm draped over a girls shoulder. It felt like a physical blow to my stomach. I squinted through the windshield, needing to see her face.

He said something that made her blush and turn her head.

My heart stopped. I knew her.

It was Hailey.

Hailey had been Mias mentor in college. When Tyler and I had taken Mia on a road trip a few years back, Hailey had accidentally bumped into our car with her bike. That was how they met.

At the time, Tyler acted like he couldn't stand her. "Shes so flighty," hed complained. "Mia needs to stop hanging out with girls who have no sense of responsibility."

Mia had just rolled her eyes at him and whispered to me, "Haileys not like that. Shes just had a hard time. Her parents are awfultotally sexist, they only care about her brother. Shes actually the smartest person I know. She just needs a break."

I felt for her. I really did. A few months later, I quietly paid for Haileys final semester of tuition through Mia. It wasn't a fortune, but it was enough to keep her in school. Hailey had even sent me a four-page handwritten thank-you note and a box of specialty tea from her hometown.

Two years ago, Mia came to me again. Hailey was struggling to find a job.

"I know Tyler doesn't like her, Jo, but shes desperate. Please? Shell take any entry-level position, any salary. She just needs a foot in the door."

Tylers company had been complaining about the "entitled" interns they were getting. Thinking I was solving two problems at once, I talked Tyler into giving her a chance. He had grumbled and made a face, but eventually said, "Fine, for you, Ill do it."

A few weeks after she started, she invited us to dinner to say thank you. Before the food even arrived, she tried to toast us with a glass of wine.

Tyler had reached out and stayed her hand, his brow furrowed. "Don't drink that. You know you can't handle it. Don't be reckless. Joanna doesn't care about the formalities."

At the time, a tiny seed of unease had planted itself in my gut. Im severely allergic to alcohol. At Tylers fathers funeral, his uncles had pressured me to drink to "honor the dead."

I had looked at Tyler, my face already flushing with hives, silently begging for help. He had just shrugged and said, "Jo, its just a toast. Give my family some respect. A few sips won't kill you." I ended up in the ER that night on an IV drip.

And yet, here he was, protecting Hailey from a single glass of Chardonnay.

When we got home that night, he had noticed my mood and laughed it off. "Oh, that? We had a team-building happy hour a few weeks ago. Hailey had one drink and almost fainted. Some guys were hovering around her like vultures, so I had to step in and play big brother. I was just making sure she didn't make a fool of herself again."

I believed him. I was the "stable" one, the "secure" one. Why would I doubt him?

I wiped the tears from my face and dialed Mia. She picked up on the second ring.

"Hey, Mia. Tyler and I... were having a bit of a rough patch. Hes moved out and won't tell me where he is. Do you know where hes staying? I just want to talk to him."

Mias voice was instantly tight with panic. "Oh... uh, Jo. I don't know. He didn't tell me. Don't go to the office, okay? Ill... Ill call him. Ill make him come home and apologize tonight. Just stay put!"

I hung up without another word.

A few minutes later, I saw Mias car pull into the office lot. Hailey came down to meet her. They talked for a long time, Hailey looking distressed, Mia looking frustrated. Then Mia drove off.

I closed my eyes. The last shred of hope vanished. Everyone knew. His sister, the girl I had helped put through schooleveryone was in on the secret except the woman who had paid the bills.

I didn't wait for him to come home. I went to a Starbucks, bought eight large Iced Americanos, and walked straight into his office building.

I saw them at the reception desk, flirting shamelessly. Tyler was leaning in close; Hailey was giggling.

They both froze when they saw me. Tylers face went pale. Hailey looked like she wanted to bolt.

I didn't give them a chance. I stepped up to the desk, took two of the coffees, ripped the lids off, and poured them slowly over both of their heads.

"The first round," I said, my voice eerily calm, "is for the two of you hooking up behind my back like a couple of stray dogs."

Hailey shrieked as the ice-cold liquid hit her. Tyler tried to shield her, his hands fluttering uselessly.

I opened two more.

"The second round," I said, drenching Tyler's expensive suit jacket, "is for the eight years of my life you just pissed away."

The office had gone silent. People were peering over their cubicles. Hailey was sobbing now, the brown liquid staining her white blouse.

Tyler finally found his voice. He lunged forward and slapped mehard. The force of it sent me stumbling back against the desk.

"Joanna! What the hell is wrong with you? Youre acting like a psycho! Youre making up lies about Hailey! I could have you arrested for this!"

I didn't say anything. I just straightened up, my cheek throbbing, and picked up the next two cups.

"And the third round is for the 'false' police report youre about to file."

I threw those too. Hailey tried to grab my arm, her face a mask of 'innocent' tragedy.

"Joanna, please! Youve heard some rumors and youre overreacting. I don't know why youre doing this to me. I know... I know its hard for women over thirty to keep their emotions in check, but this is too much!"

She looked around the room, making sure everyone saw her 'empathy.' "Tyler told me you were getting paranoid and unstable lately. I didn't want to believe him, but now..."

I didn't argue. I grabbed the final two cups.

This time, Tyler didn't just slap me. He shoved me with everything he had. I tripped, my head slamming into the sharp corner of the reception desk.

Everything went blurry. I felt something warm trickling down my forehead.

"Joanna, enough!" Tyler screamed. "This is a place of business, not your kitchen!"

I stayed on the floor, the coffee pooling around me, blood dripping into my eye. And then, I started to laugh. A wild, jagged sound that filled the room.

"Im unstable? Im paranoid? Im the problem?"

I looked up at Tylers horrified face.

"Fine. Im the problem. So youre free. Go have your 'fresh blood,' Tyler. I hope she was worth the price."

I stood up, shaking. "Be out of the apartment by tonight. Take your trash with you. Were done."