Untangled 41: the Punishment of a good deed

I was downsizing from 1,200 sq. ft. to 750, so I needed to purge. I sold a few things here and there on Marketplace, but I still had a lot to get rid of. Then one night, I woke up around 2:30 a.m. and saw a Facebook friend’s face in my mind. So, I got on Facebook and sent her a message. She responded immediately. I asked if she or someone she knew needed stuff for an apartment. I felt like I had to give the rest away and not sell it. She said she didn’t need anything but that she had a friend who had literally just escaped an abusive relationship with nothing but the clothes on her back. The state helped her get into transitional housing, and all she had was the bare minimum. I asked for her friend’s name and messaged her. The friend responded later that day and said she would take whatever I had to give. She lived in a small town outside of Austin, TX. I decided I would give her everything I could fit into my car and make the three-hour trip down the following weekend. I told my guy I would be going down to Austin and asked if he could keep an eye on Zoey. He said he would drive me. I protested because it wasn’t necessary—it was a quick turnaround trip, and I kind of wanted to get back into the swing of doing big things alone. He insisted, saying we could make a weekend trip out of it while down there. I agreed because I knew he wasn’t going to back down.

The morning of the trip, I got several CashApp donations from Facebook friends to help with gas. I told him about it in excitement and saw the anger begin to rise. He didn’t want to help me, but he hated for anyone else to help me as well. I filled my tank up and would give her the rest of the money. I told him the day before that I wanted to head down at 8 a.m. on Saturday to avoid heavy traffic. He arrived at my place around 8:20 and was in a horrible mood. He said he wasn’t feeling well and didn’t feel like driving. I told him I could handle it and urged him to please go home and get some rest. I was expecting him to pull something like this. He thought I would cancel the trip because he was sick, or he was priming me to feel more indebted to him. He would come anyway because he wanted accolades on Facebook for helping while sick. He said, “Nah, you already told the girl you’re bringing the stuff, so I have to take you,” and would not get out of the driver’s seat. I didn’t want to waste any more time arguing, so I got in. No sooner than the door was closed, he sped off. This would be a horrible three hours. He immediately disconnected his phone from the car and put it in the driver’s door.

We got about two miles from my place, and he asked, “Why are you doing this?”

I said, “Doing what?”

He said, “Driving three hours to give this girl you’ve never met all of your stuff. You could’ve sold it for cash.”

I said, “I woke up one night and knew I had to give it to her.”

He rolled his eyes and said, “You really do think you’re better than everyone.” I was taken aback because I thought just the opposite.

We got to her house before noon. He backed into the space in front of her place, and I jumped out. I wasn’t expecting any help from him because he was irritated and, according to him, sick. She came out onto the porch to greet me. Just then, he sprang from the car in a great mood with all smiles. Oh, he was pouring it on thick! He gave her a big hug and told her he was happy to make the drive. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. He opened the hatch and started unloading. Once everything was inside, he asked if she needed help with anything. She had an old bunk bed that was broken and needed to be taken to the dumpster. He took it apart and carried each piece to the dumpster while I helped her set up the TV I brought down. I told her I would be back later with a picture for behind her couch—those bare walls bothered me; it didn’t feel like a home. She said she wouldn’t be home tomorrow at that time, he said he would put it in her porch storage.

On the way to check in to the hotel, he was cheery and playful. He said he was glad he came and suggested we get her picture in the morning, have dinner that evening, and get in the hotel pool. I agreed because I was tired. We checked in, changed clothes, and went to have dinner. We skipped the pool because it was rooftop in the blazing 100-degree Texas sun. While I was in the room, he left for a good four hours, as he tends to do wherever we go. So it was no big deal.

The next day, we went for breakfast, then went to find a picture for behind the couch. After we got the picture, we headed to her place. When we got there, he put the car in park and pulled out his phone. I asked if he was going to put the picture in the storage. It was a large framed print, and she had stairs. He snapped at me, “I don’t work for you! This was your idea in the first place! Do it yourself!”

I snapped back, “You told her you would put it in the storage—that wasn’t my idea!” then I went to get out of the car to do it myself. He always did this! He would volunteer something and when I would remind him he would go off. So it always felt like I was begging. When he saw me about to do it myself, he hurried out of the car before me to put grab the picture. Then he gets back in, slams the door and cusses really loud. I was fuming. It was like he went out of his way to start an argument. I had begged him not to come, but now here I was, three hours from home with a man who hated me with a perfect hatred.

I told him, “I want to go home NOW. Let’s just check out and go; I don’t have the bandwidth for this.” He ignored me. Instead, he drove to a donut shop I’d talked about the week before and got a giant chocolate donut as if nothing ever happened. We ignored each other the rest of the day and until check out that morning.