New Year's Eve nightmare

I never told my boyfriend what happened when I met up with my friends at a crowded bar on New Year’s Eve. It's not that I didn't want to, I just knew that if I did, he'd make me feel worse than I already did.

In the entire existence of my dating career, I have never gone out with my significant other on New Year’s Eve. I’ve wanted to, but it just never seemed to happen. My boyfriend at the time was working late and we were going to move in together the following day, so he said he’d have a drink with “the boys” and go to bed. He encouraged me to make plans though. Not at all what I wanted to hear, but I tended to roll with things more than I should of those days.

I met up with one of my close guy friends for a drink and some dancing. For clarity's sake, my friend is gay. Anyways, I was pretty upset that again, I would not have a kiss to ring in the New Year with my then-boyfriend and guzzled down a drink much faster than I had intended to. The second drink, however, I nursed for the duration of the evening. More of our girl friends arrived and we danced and laughed and had an all-around good time.

As the clock started to near closer to midnight, it appeared some of my “moves” attracted the fancy of a few men and they felt the need to inch nearer to me. Feeling anxious about seeing couples embrace, I hung close to my guy friend to distract me. When the countdown started to dwindle down, the attendance at the bar started to shout along. I closed my eyes as I braced the tears that would soon be running down my face. Little did I know that those tears would have more than one reason for escaping my eyes. But even before they had puddled over and out, my lids flung themselves toward my eyebrows in a panic as I found myself nose-to-nose with some man that felt I should be kissed.

But it wasn't just his lips.

His hands decided other things about meeting me too. One hand made it's way up my shirt and under my bra and another down my pants pushing his fingers into places they weren't invited to. Somewhere in the mix, my friend came over to intercede. I stood there blankly, throwing my left hand on my right shoulder and my right on my left side.

Happy New Year's Emily.

I felt so gross.

Did I look at him earlier and not realize it? I must have given him the impression I wanted this earlier. Wait, is this my fault? I'm not drunk. I didn't approach him.

This was hardly the New Year's kiss I wanted.

Oh, God. What would "he" say? He's going to say I cheated and I asked for this. Oh, my God. We're moving in together in just a few hours. I guess I can't tell him. He'll yell at me and call me names ... I'll have to find a way to make it up to him instead.

I barely slept that night. I was panicked about losing the money I put into the new place, losing the new place and losing him. In the morning, I called him as soon as I woke up, so I could figure out where we would meet. He didn't pick up. I waited a bit and called again — maybe he was just really tired. Then I texted. Then I got worried. Hours went by and I worried I'd be signing papers by myself. When I pulled up to the office to meet our soon-to-be landlords, I took a deep breath and went full-on crazy-girlfriend and called until he picked up. Finally, he came by my window knocking on it with force. He was angry, but I wasn't sure why. Exiting my car, I reached for a hug and he charged at me with verbal assaults.

"Why did you call so much?"

"I was excited to see you ... and it's a big day. I didn't want to be late."

"It's not going anywhere. God. I don't know what your problem is."

He didn't know, but he still wasn't excited to even see me.

What did I do? Maybe there was a girl with him last night?

Either way, upon first meeting of our landlords, he turned into a straight-up lunatic. I'd seen him like this before, but at the time, I never made the connection. They reiterated during our conversation that it was me that would be paying the bills and me they could count on. I agreed and shrugged off their uncertainties. He, however, launched all kinds of childish verbal assaults and could not stop fidgeting. He broke a piece of one of the chairs.

Was he still hungover? What happened to him last night?

In hindsight, I should have picked up on his strange behavior, but I think I was too focused on the move and what happened to me a few hours before to even pick up on what he was. I can say it now though: a drug addict.