Stakeout.

It's Friday night and I am home alone, laying on my bed staring at my ceiling and listening to the ticking of the clock hanging on my wall. Sally invited me out tonight, a whole group of people are going to a movie and then the bowling alley, it's like high date night all over again. She thought it would be good for me to get out of my apartment and go out, but it was an awful idea; so when she called me at 2:00 this afternoon I told her I was sick and couldn't go out. It wasn't a complete lie. I do feel sick, but it has nothing to do with my health. As Grandpa Joe would say, "I'm as healthy as a horse," but I feel awful anyway. My head is spinning, my heart aches, it hurts to breathe, my nose is sore, my eyes burn from too much crying, and the ache in the pit of my stomach is worse than any stomach flu I've ever had. So essence, I'm sick.

Looking back on my relationship with Matt I realize now that I should have seen it coming. I should have known he would cheat on me; it's just who he is. The hardest part of the ordeal was listening to him beg me to forgive him. He swore up and down that he knows he should have said no, but he was drunk and he wasn't thinking about it. The entire time I just sat there and remembered all the small and significant markers of our year long relationship that no long mattered--the songs, the flowers, the hugs, the plans. It had all been one big, extended lie...and I had been dumb enough to believe it. Actually, I lied. The worst part is that even though he was the one that screwed up, I'm the one laying on my bed, feeling miserable, on a Friday night two weeks after our break up.

With a new determination not to let him win I convince myself to get out of bed. In the shower I mentally run through all of my friends and whether or not they might be available to do something at 9:00 on a Friday night. I'm sure that I could still meet up with Sally and her group for bowling, but I decide that I would rather enjoy myself. By the time I finish my shower I've decided to call Michelle. She's my best friend, and regardless of previous plans, she'll be there for me. I call her and her phone rings once, it rings twice, it rings three times. Michelle finally answers on the fourth ring and she sounds a little out of breath, "What do you want? You mope around for 2 weeks and I hardly hear from you. And now, when I have a super hot date, you finally decide to come out of your coma and call me." I laugh, "Bull. You just left your phone in the kitchen and you had to get off your couch and run to answer it. You're not doing anything other than watching TV." She mumbles something about how I am lucky to have a friend like her and I tell her she has 20 minutes to get ready and I'll be at her house.

On the drive to her house I try to decide what I want to do, and realize that while I wanted out of my apartment I had zero plans on which to act. Michelle is just as void of ideas as I am so it doesn't take long to decide on girls night in with our two favorite men, Ben and Jerry. Unfortunately, the trip to the grocery store takes us right past Matt's house. Unable to help myself I slam on my breaks and jerk the car to the side of the road when I notice a shiny little Volvo parked in his driveway. I recognize that car, it's her car... Michelle thinks it's an awful idea as I quietly slip out of the car and creep towards the driveway. I can hear her whisper shouting at me to leave it alone and get back in the car. But I have to check, I have to see if he is with her. I slip silently up the driveway and peek in the front window, it's dark and I don't see anyone. I turn to head to the next window and almost scream when I bump directly into Michelle who had gotten out of the car and snuck up to the window. She continues to demand that I return to the car so that we can leave, but nonetheless she follows me from window to window as I search for my ex and his new squeeze in the house. After making a trip all the way around the house and failing to see anyone inside I realize that his truck in not in garage, they aren't h0me.

Michelle and I rushed back to my car and we rushed to the King Soopers a few blocks away. Inside we dash up and down aisles chucking the necessities into the cart as we arm ourselves to the stakeout. It is at this point that I would like to point out that while snooping around the house had been solely my idea, the stakeout is Michelle's. We tote bags filled with ice cream, black face paint, chips, and soda back to the car. In the parking lot of the King Soopers Michelle and I take turns painting our faces with "war paint" before making our way back to his house.

We spend the next 2 hours parked in the shadows eating junk food and having a great time, for a little while I even forgot that we were there stalking my ex. The truck turned onto the street and the headlights flooded the area with brightness as the truck moved closer and closer to the house we were staking. As they drove by Michelle and I sunk low in the seats and pretended to be invisible. From my sunken position I couldn't see much, but I assumed that as the truck passed that Matt was in the diver's seat, he never let anyone drive his truck. In the year that I had been with Matt he had never once let me drive his truck; I was shocked as I watched her long legs slide out of the drivers seat as Matt climbed out of the passenger side door. Unable to hold in my anger I spun towards Michelle blurting out incoherent words about how that slut had gotten to drive the truck and I never had. Stewing in anger I turned on my car and screeched out of the neighborhood as the couple made their way into the house. I'd seen enough. I was over him. As I drove blindly back towards Michelle's house I realized that he was just another picture to burn.