“What happened last night?”
Ahh, the blackout. These words have become oh-so-familiar over the past two years I’ve spent at this fine university. Sunday mornings – Gatorade and a McDonald’s breakfast sandwich in hand – I sit in my living room with my roommates, attempting to piece together the events from the night before. Looking through pictures, decoding unintelligible text messages sent to the cute guy from Calculus, my friend apologizing for puking on my shoes or stealing my pizza before I had a chance to get the door.
I can’t be mad at them though, or even blame them. Sometimes the a-a-a-a-a-alcohol takes over and there is no turning back. They are no longer the same person and are going to do things they wouldn’t normally do. Like the infamous girl-on-girl makeout sesh which is now plastered all over Facebook.
But like they taught you in elementary school, it’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt. And recently, that person was me.
My boyfriend and I have been together for over two vomit-includingly cute years. We moved in together in August to a new apartment where he makes me dinner after a long night at work, and we’ve even talked marriage.
We were the stereotypical happy couple until about two weeks ago during a blackout sorta night.
All of my friends were finally back in town before this spring (spring? There’s two feet of snow outside) semester started, so naturally we had to celebrate get wasted. After a long night of cheap vodka and too many shots at the bar, we went back to my friend’s apartment for afties. Just another successful night.
That is, until I realized that my boyfriend was missing and I had no idea where he was. I started roaming around the apartment. I looked in the kitchen, then the bathroom. Nothing. Finally, I peeked my head into my friend’s bedroom and there he was. Naked. On top of a girl. Who was also naked.
Naturally, I flipped the eff out. I screamed, I stormed over to the bed and pulled him off of her. I stared at him, anger bubbling up inside of me; his eyes were glazed, he was falling over, and he had no idea where he was. My boyfriend was beyond blacked out.
The rest of the night got a little hazy. I went crazy, taking justice into my own hands. Literally. The next thing I knew, I was handcuffed in the back of a cop car, blowing a .34 BAC (classy, I know) and being charged with domestic assault (apparently some neighbors called the cops to file a noise complaint). Not my finest moment. After I got out and was able to talk to my boyfriend again (sans fists), I demanded answers. But got nothing. He was blacked out the entire time; he didn’t remember being at the bar, going back to the apartment, or even how he ended up with a black eye and a fat lip. (Yeah, I totally JWowwed his ass. I was angry!)
And this fact alone has left me completely torn and unable to eat or sleep. My boyfriend betrayed my trust and really broke my heart. He sent me into a fit of rage I’ve never known before and made a fool out of me.
But can I really blame him for something that happened when he was blackout drunk?
Something that he doesn’t even remember doing?
Can that even be considered cheating?
Do I forgive him?
I honestly don’t know what to think.
The thing about this situation is that everything is not black and white. It would have been so much easier to just dump him and walk away if he was going behind my back on purpose. But he wasn’t. And while nothing technically happened (they didn’t have sex), it scares the shiz out of me to think what would have happened if I hadn’t walked in. It disgusts me to think about my boyfriend being with someone else, or what he was saying to her while they were in bed, or how he ended up there in the first place.
I definitely blame my boyfriend for getting that drunk. Mostly because he always gets that drunk. I blame him for putting himself in that situation and for putting me in that situation. But I still don’t know if I can blame him for what he actually did. I can’t hold him more responsible for his actions than my friend who pukes on my shoes, or the friend who always steals my food when she comes home from the bar drunk. I know neither of them would intentionally hurt me when they’re sober, so is this really different? I’ve never gotten into a fight with my boyfriend, let alone had to deal with something like this. Until this incident, I never had a reason not to trust him.
Is this a good enough reason?
I understand that to many of you this seems like such a simple answer, but I’m seriously stuck. I love my boyfriend and we have so much history. I honestly don’t know what to do. What do you think? Can blackout mistakes be forgiven?