The Good, The Bad, and The Dirty

PATRICK: Where The Fuck Have You Been????

The clock above the kitchen sink said it was just about noon, where the hell was Pete. I sat on the couch in the living room, nearly four and a half hours I had sat there, waiting. Pete told me the day before that he was going out for a couple hours. And yet here we are, Saturday morning, the next day and he isn't home. He hasn't been home all night, who knows where the hell he has been all this time. By now, I was no longer worried, just furious at him. This isn't even the first time this has happened either. A few months ago, Pete was over at Brendon's, he told me he would be home in a few hours, but come morning, he still wasn't home.

Finally about ten minutes after noon, I heard the door open and in walked Pete. He looked like he had just got out of bed, which is what he was like last time too.

"Where the hell have you been?" I half asked, half shouted at him.

"I was out with Joe and Brendon last night. We were drinking and I didn't think I should drive home, so I crashed at Joe's. Is that wrong of me to do?" Pete lied.

"Well, you could have texted me and I could have came and picked you up. Or I could have at least been aware you were staying there. But no, instead I am left here to worry about you."

"Worry. Why are you worrying about it, who are you my fucking mother?"

"I will damn well worry if I want to worry about you. Do you have a problem with that? Now, stop your yelling." I almost screamed at him.

"Who the fuck is yelling. I didn't yell, but if you want me to then I will."

"Fine! The hell with you. Just don't talk to me for the rest of the day."

"Okay. I am perfectly fine with that, douche hole." And with that, Pete left the room and went to his room. Sometimes he can be a fucking prick. Who is he, to tell me that I can't worry. If I want to worry I can, he is not the boss of me. My emotions kept flying around, almost out of control and I couldn't help myself. I fell on the couch and started crying.

I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, it was 6:00pm. I got off the couch, which was quite comfortable, and went to go check on Pete. I may be angry with his ignorant ass, but he was my boyfriend after all.

When I got to his room, I opened the door. He wasn't there. Maybe he's in the kitchen, I thought. After closing the door and walking back down the hallway, I went to the kitchen. I stepped in the room only to find that he wasn't there. There was no where else that he could be. He never goes to the basement since it was small as it was, and that is where I keep all of my stuff. He has his own separate room for his extra stuff, which I knew he wasn't in there because it was right next to his room and the door was wide open.

This stupid search for the whereabouts of Pete was starting to get annoying and frustrating. If he would just grow up and quit being such a baby half the time, this wouldn't happen. I swear, the only time he wasn't acting like a baby, is when he's out drinking. I decided there was one last place that he could possibly be, the garage. I walked out the front door and went into the garage, he wasn't in there either. But this time he wasn't the only thing not there. This time his car was gone too. Pete noticed I was asleep, and left.