Red Flags

She shouted at the top of her lungs for no absolute reason.“James, you missed the f-ing turn!”. If there was ever a red flag that I could no longer tolerate this relationship it was then. In the Winter of 2016, I was in my first real relationship with a girl. It was cool because one, I had never been in one before, and two, she was nice to me. Looking back, I totally rushed into it. I probably had known this girl for maybe three weeks. To limit any controversy, I’ll refer to her as Red, for both the red flags and the brown-reddish hair she had (ironic).

My knowledge of how to deal with girls was limited, and for the two years that we dated I don’t think it ever progressed. I wasn’t a shut-in or anything like that, I just was always afraid of girls. Red was nice to me at first, and said that she loved me, but she had a dominant toxic nature to herself. The moment I knew that this wasn’t going to last was probably the moment that she went berserk on me on the way to a Bosa Donuts. At that time, I think I had been dating her for about a year.

The event that took place was simple, totally casual. Our friends, Red, my brother Jayden, and I wanted donuts. Of the whole lot of us there were seven, so we had to take two cars. In one were our friends, Larry, Cole, Stphon (that’s how it was spelled), and John, the other had Red, Jayden, and me. Bosa Donuts was about ten minutes away from John’s apartment. We loaded up and left.

It was Winter, so in Phoenix that means construction season. Because of this, the left turn lane was closed, meaning turns were no longer as obvious as they used to be. Along every road, were long stretches of orange cones that went on for miles. The sounds of the car were quiet conversation over some sort of music and the infamous Google Maps. The chime came in;

“In one mile turn left into the parking lot,” which meant trouble for me. I had to start looking for the turn to make, so I left the conversation, ignoring a question that Red had asked me. This was the 98-degree Celsius point for Red, she did not like to be ignored and her blood was about to boil. She was moody, and the aura she gave off was frightening, and with my timid spirit I came back to the conversation, ignoring the directions.

People ask why I don’t use Google Maps. This story is the reasoning. Before I could even go back to driving, all I heard was,

“Turn left.” No warning for the next hundred feet or so, just turn left. Well, when you drive 55 in a 45, you can’t just “Turn left” so we missed the turn. I thought that I got Red to cool down to at least 50-degrees, but it looks like I just revamped the heat because before I knew it, the loud yell of an angry woman filled my brother’s and my ears. My brother, stunned that someone would say that to their partner, could not get a word out. I was scared for my life, because of the sheer look in the eyes of Red. The next words were,

“Just turn into the f-ing Taco Bell, we’ll walk.”

“Okay,” was all I could manage in a soft quiet voice. I still have no idea why this was such a problem for Red. At most we would’ve walked a quarter of a mile. Everything would’ve been smoothed over, right? Well, I missed that turn too. If missing one turn was 100-degrees, missing two turns was the melting point of iron. School bullies had said nicer things to nerds with broken glasses than what Red said to me that day. To patch things up, I made an illegal U-turn on a red light (didn’t help), then accelerated to the speed limit. At this time, my friends, near and dear to my heart because of what they did, stood in front of the turn so I could see it. Didn’t help. I missed a right turn next.

The emotions that were stirring up inside of me were not pleasant. I thought I was going to puke, or pass out, or both. Finally, I got the clarity amid a still screaming girlfriend, to turn into a parking lot right next to the donut shop. There were no backdoors so, my brother was trapped in a prison of awkwardness. We got out, and I just looked at the four friends of mine and regretted bringing my girlfriend. I wasn't yelling at her in my head or anything, I just felt that I needed to be alone for such an embarrassing thing.

My parents told me that you date to marry, so I had to look at Red and think to myself,

“Do I plan on marrying you?” the short answer was no. Red got out of the car just to notice the ass she had made of herself and decided to try and be all lovey-dovey. She took advantage of my timid nature and I quickly forgave her, in words only. In spirit, this was the first cut of a deep wound that would spread all over myself. Red grabbed my hand and put her head on my shoulder as if to act like the total freak out came from another person who mysteriously disappeared.

I do not remember the actual moment of being in Bosa Donuts, except the she took a few pictures of me and posted it on social media as a way of condolences, you know the new Millenial/ Gen Z way of doing things. Later we went back to John’s and Red left. My friends looked at me, and they all said that I should leave her. I did not leave the relationship for another year. I do not know why; I think that it had to do with how emotional she was. I thought that if I broke up with her, she might make my life worse somehow. Behavior like this lasted for another year until she left me. Ironic.