My boyfriend made me wait 2 hours at an expensive restaurant for our anniversary. When he finally arrived with his friends, he loudly said:

“See, told you she’d still be here like a pathetic puppy.”

They all laughed. We’d been together 3 years, and I’d just paid off his car loan. I smiled, ordered another drink. This morning, my phone shows 78 missed calls, and his belongings are in garbage bags at the dump.

Randy and I met 3 years ago when my apartment flooded after my upstairs neighbor left their bathtub running all weekend—who does that? I had to crash at my brother’s place while waiting for repairs, and Randy was the plumber assigned to fix everything. He kept finding new problems every time he came by, which I now realize was just his way of seeing me more LOL. Back then I thought it was cute. Now I’m questioning if he deliberately messed with my pipes to drag it out. Anyway, I remember thinking how easy it was to talk to him, which is rare for me because I’m usually super awkward around new people. Fast forward to year 1, things were pretty great. We moved in together after 8 months—too fast, I know—because his lease was ending and it just made sense financially. Randy worked as a plumber but struggled with consistent income because he kept having issues with different companies. He’d either get let go for showing up late or he’d quit because his bosses were total who didn’t appreciate his skills. Red flag number one that I completely ignored. Over the years, Randy would constantly send me these long angry telegram voice messages about his boss, calling him a brainless monkey and mocking his accent or how he dressed. He’d rant about how his boss was too stupid to operate a doorknob and how he was carrying the whole company but getting zero recognition. I’d save these messages in my favorites folder, sometimes even downloading them when they were particularly nasty. Not sure why I kept them. Maybe subconsciously I knew they’d matter someday. He did the same with his parents, especially when they wouldn’t loan him money.

He’d send these awful voice messages calling his dad a pathetic excuse for a man and his mom a who can’t think for herself. One time after they refused to help with his car payment, he sent a five-minute voice message about how they were failures who never accomplished anything and how he was embarrassed to be related to such losers. I remember feeling so uncomfortable listening to them, but I just added them to my favorites folder without really thinking about it. By year two, I was basically covering most of our expenses. My job isn’t amazing, but it’s stable, and I kept telling myself relationships are about balance, sometimes one person car cares more weight until the other gets on their feet. Randy always promised things would turn around soon. He just needed one good opportunity and everything would change. 6 months ago, ry’s car broke down—a 2015 Mustang that was way beyond what he could afford. He was devastated because apparently it was his dream car and he needed reliable transportation for work. I stupidly offered to help with the payment since it was affecting his ability to keep jobs. I ended up taking over the entire loan, $386 per month, which is a lot for me. I guess I just wanted to be supportive and thought maybe this would be the thing that helped him get stable. Edit: several people met messaged asking why I’d pay for his car. Looking back, it seems so obvious, but in the moment it felt like I was helping us both. We lived together, shared expenses, and without transportation he couldn’t work consistently. Also, he was super emotional about potentially losing his baby.

So anyway, last night was our three-year anniversary, and I had just made the final payment on his car last week, which was a huge financial stretch for me. I made reservations at this nice restaurant downtown that we’d always talked about trying but could never afford—translation, I couldn’t afford to treat us both. I spent ages getting ready. New dress, hair done, the whole thing. I arrived at 7:00 p.m. for our reservation. Randy texted that he was running late and asked me to go ahead and get seated. By 7:30, I texted three times with no response. By 8, I’d called twice, straight to voicemail. The waitress kept giving me these pitying looks and asking if I wanted to order or perhaps reschedule. I was so embarrassed but kept saying he’s just running late, traffic probably, while checking my phone every 2 minutes. At 8:45, yes, I’d been sitting alone for almost 2 hours, I was about to give up when Randy finally walked in with four of his friends. This wasn’t a miscommunication. He’d never mentioned anyone else to our anniversary dinner. So they all come over to my table laughing and obviously already buzzed, and then—I still can’t believe this happened—Randy turns to his friends and says loud enough for nearby tables to hear:

“See, told you she’d still be here like a pathetic puppy. 2 hours and she didn’t leave.”

They all burst out laughing. One of his friends Jake, who I’ve always thought was a total jerk, goes:

“Damn, you weren’t kidding. She’s trained good.”

More laughter. Randy then plops down next to me, squeezes my cheeks between his fingers like I’m a child, and says:

“This is why she’s the best. Most chicks would have stormed out, but my C, she pays my bills and waits around like a good girl.”

Then he looked at me with this disgusting smirk and said:

“A, did you think this was going to be some romantic dinner? That’s adorable. We have a poker game after this. I just needed to make sure you were good for the next payment first.”

When I didn’t respond, he grabed my chin roughly and turned my face toward him, saying:

“Hello? Earth to C. God, you’re pathetic sometimes. Say something, or are you just going to sit there looking like a sad puppy?”

His friends thought this was hilarious. I literally couldn’t breathe. 3 years together. I had just dropped nearly 12 K paying off his car, and this is what he thought of me. This is what he told his friends about me, that I was some pathetic doormat he could treat however he wanted. The server came over looking super uncomfortable and asked if we were ready to order. I remember smiling somehow and saying actually I’d like another glass of wine first. Randy and his friends ordered a bunch of expensive appetizers and drinks, still making occasional jokes about my patience and how lucky Randy was to have found someone so understanding. Randy then pointed at me and told the server:

“Don’t worry about bringing her food though, she’s watching her figure. Another few pounds and we’d need a bigger t.”

Everyone laughed while I sat there completely humiliated. After my wine arrived, I took a long sip, placed it down carefully, and said I needed to use the restroom. Randy barely acknowledged me. He was busy entertaining his friends with some story about his boss being an idiot. In the bathroom, I stared at myself in the mirror for a solid 5 minutes. I wasn’t crying. I wasn’t even angry yet. I was just done. 3 years of making excuses for him. 3 years of carrying us financially. 3 years of ignoring red flags. And this is what he really thought of me. That’s when I made a decision. I wasn’t going to make a scene. I wasn’t going to cry or yell or throw drinks. No. Randy deserved something much more calculated. I opened Telegram and scrolled through all those saved voice messages from Randy, the ones where he trashed his boss as incompetent and fraudulent and his parents as pathetic failures. I had dozens of them saved in my favorites folder, some even downloaded to my phone. I texted my friend Emma who lives nearby and asked if she could pick me up in 10 minutes. Then I went back to the table, smiled at everyone, and excused myself again, saying I needed to make a quick call about a work emergency. As I walked out, I stopped by the server and quietly paid for my wines and only my wines. On my car, I told her the gentleman would be covering the rest of the bill. Then I walked out, got into Emma’s car, and blocked ry’s number before he could even realize I was gone. But here’s the thing: I didn’t just block his number. I had a plan forming. See, over the years I’d helped Randy with countless tech issues. I had access to his email, his cloud accounts, his banking app to make those car payments, and even his social media, and let’s just say I know exactly how information can be shared most efficiently. That was just last night.

This morning I woke up to 78 missed calls from numbers I didn’t recognize—his friends probably—and the most satisfying string of panicked texts from ry’s work phone begging me to please talk to him and it was just a joke and asking what did you do. What did I do? Well, that’s a story for tomorrow when I have more time to write it all out. Let’s just say his boss and parents received some very interesting telegram voice clips this morning, and that car he Lov so much? Turns out when you cancel the final payment and provide the lender with evidence of fraud, they take repossession very seriously. More to come. I need to finish packing up his things for their new home at the local dump. Edit: thank you for all the support in the comments. For those asking if this is real, unfortunately yes. For those worried about legal issues, don’t be. Everything I did was 100% within my rights. I’ll explain more in my next update.

First update: so many of you asked for an update on what happened after I left the restaurant, so here we go. So after Emma picked me up from the restaurant, I was in this weird calm state, like I wasn’t even crying, which is not normal for me. I literally tear up at dog food commercials. I think I was just in shock. Emma kept asking if I was okay and I remember just staring out the window, thinking about all the voice messages I had saved from Randy over the years. When we got to apartment I finally broke down, like ugly crying with mascara everywhere, the whole thing. Emma just sat with me, brought ice cream—cookie dough, my absolute fave—and let me vent for like 2 hours straight. She didn’t even check her phone once, which is basically friendship goals. Around midnight, my phone started blowing up with texts from Randy. At first they were angry, like where TF did you go and you seriously ditched me with the bill. Then they switched to this fake concern, are you okay and just let me know you’re safe. By 1:00 a.m. he was sending these long paragraph texts about how it was just a joke and how I was overreacting, acting classic gaslighting BS. I didn’t respond to any of them. Instead, I made a list—I’m a notorious list maker LOL—of all the accounts I had access to: one, his email from when I helped him job hunt; two, his Instagram, he always forgot his password; three, his iCloud set up on my laptop from when his broke; four, his Spotify, we shared a family plan I paid for; five, his banking app for car payments; six, our shared Netflix, again that I paid for. As I was writing this list, I realized how completely insane it was that he had given me access to basically his entire digital life, but it also gave me this weird sense of power. For the first time in our relationship, I felt like I had control over something. Edit: some people in the comments are worried this is illegal. Don’t worry. He literally gave me all these passwords and asked me to manage these accounts for him. I’m not hacking anything.

The next morning, after maybe 3 hours of sleep, I started my plan. First step was dealing with the car. I logged into his banking app and saw that the payment I had made last week was still processing. It hadn’t fully cleared yet. I immediately called the bank and explained that I needed to cancel a payment due to fraud. The customer service person was super nice. When I explained that I had been manipulated into making payments for someone else’s vehicle, they asked for documentation, so I sent screenshots of text conversations where Randy had basically admitted the car was solely his, not mine. I also mentioned that I had voice recordings of him bragging to friends about how I was paying for his car, which I actually did from one of those telegram voice messages where he was bragging to his friend about how I was covering all his expenses. The bankrupt put me on hold for what felt like forever, then came back and said they would reverse the payment while they investigated. While dealing with the bank stuff, Randy called like 15 times. I sent him to voicemail every time. He left these increasingly desperate messages, first angry, then apologetic, then back to angry. In one voicemail he actually said:

“you overreacting to a stupid joke and ruining our anniversary.”

Our anniversary. The one where he showed up 2 hours late with his friends and humiliated me. That anniversary. Loel okay. Around noon I decided to check some of his other accounts. I wasn’t planning to do anything malicious, but I was curious if there was anything else I should know about. Y’all, I found everything. There were dozens of SMS between Randy and his friends planning the whole restaurant thing. They had been discussing it for days. One SMS from Jake, his jerk friend, said:

“can’t wait to see her face when you tell her it’s not actually an anniversary dinner LOL.”

Randy replied:

“she’ll probably just sit there and take it like always.”

But wait, it gets worse. As I kept scrolling, I found emails with some girl named Amber from his work. Flirty emails with pictures dating back months. Nothing explicitly saying they were hooking up, but definitely crossing lines. One message from just last week had the subject line after work, with just a winky face emoji in the body. At this point I was shaking. 3 years of my life, thousands of dollars, all the support and patience I had given him, and this is how he repaid me. I took a break and made some coffee, spilled it everywhere because my hands were literally shaking. Emma had gone to work but kept texting to check on me. I sent her a quick I’m fine text and went back to my investigation. Next, I opened his Google drive through his email. He had a folder called voice notes where he kept recordings of calls and conversations, mostly work stuff, but then I found a recording from 3 months ago of him and Jake laughing about how I was basically his sugar mama and how he was just keeping me around until something better comes along. I had given him everything and he had been laughing behind my back the entire time. So I made another list: one, send voice clips to his boss, the ones where he calls him an incompetent idiot; two, send voice clips to his parents where he calls them failures and pathetic; three, cancel all shared subscriptions; four, pack up his stuff; five, change all my passwords and lock him out of my accounts.

The voice messages were easy. I had them all saved in my telegram favorites folder. Some I had even downloaded to my phone because they were so shocking at the time. I created a new telegram account using a temporary number, then sent the clips of Randy trashing his boss to his boss. I found his contact info in Randy’s email—he had emailed his resume to him recently. I did the same with his parents, sending them the clips where he called them pathetic failures and mocked them for not being successful enough. I didn’t add any commentary, just sent the clips with a simple message:

“thought you should hear how Randy talks about you when you’re not around.”

Next, I logged into all our shared accounts—Netflix, Spotify, etc.—and either changed the passwords or canceled them entirely. It felt so good, good to systematically remove him from my digital life. Then came the hard part: packing his stuff. Randy had been living with me for over 2 years, so he had a lot of things at my place. I started with his clothes, stuffing them into garbage bags, not even folding them, which felt rebellious since I always folded his laundry. I filled seven bags just with clothes and shoes. I was halfway through the bathroom stuff when my doorbell rang. My heart literally stopped. I peaked through the peephole and it was Randy. He was standing there looking all sad with flowers in his hand, flowers like that would fix anything. I didn’t answer. I backed away from the door and sat on the floor of my hallway trying not to make any noise. He rang again and again, then started knocking, then calling my phone, which I had on silent. Finally he started yelling through the door about how I was being childish and needed to talk like adults. After about 20 minutes of this, one of my neighbors must have threatened to call building security because he finally left, but not before sliding a note under my door that said we need to talk I’m sorry about last night it was supposed to be a joke please call me. A joke. Being publicly humiliated and degraded by the person who’s supposed to love you is not a joke.

I went back to packing his stuff with renewed determination. By 6 p.m., I had everything of his in garbage bags by the door. 15 bags total. 3 years of relationship reduced to 15 garbage bags. That’s when my phone pinged with an email notification. It was from the bank. They had approved the payment reversal. The money was being returned to my account within 3 to 5 business days. I literally did a happy dance in my living room. Almost immediately after, I got a frantic text from Randy:

“why is there a tow truck at my apartment what did you do to my car”

I didn’t respond, but I did smile. A lot. Around 8:00 p.m., my phone basically exploded with notification. Turns out ry’s boss had received the voice clips and immediately called him in for a meeting. From the string of increasingly desperate texts Randy sent me, it didn’t go well. Apparently his boss had been suspicious about some work issues for a while, and hearing Randy call him an incompetent who couldn’t find his ass with both hands was the last straw. Randy was put on probation pending further review. His parents also received their clips and called him in tears asking why he would say such horrible things about them. According to his texts, his mom was hysterical and his dad wouldn’t even speak to him. By 10: p.m., Randy was sending me these long rambling texts about how I had ruined his life and how one bad joke didn’t justify what I had done. He switched between begging for forgiveness and threatening me with legal action. I saved all the texts but didn’t respond to any of them. I slept at Emma’s again that night because I was honestly a little scared he might show up drunk or something, but in the morning I felt lighter, like I had finally stood up for myself after years of letting him walk all over me.

The next step was figuring out what to do with all his stuff. I couldn’t keep 15 garbage bags in my apartment and I definitely didn’t want to see him to give them back. That’s when Emma suggested something that made me gasp. What if we just took it to the dump. It seemed extreme. Even after everything, I wasn’t sure I could just throw away all his possessions. But then I remembered the emails, the planned humiliation, the cheating, the 3 years of supporting him while he laughed behind my back. So this morning Emma borrowed her brother’s truck and we loaded up all 15 bags. I checked through them one last time to make sure there wasn’t anything super important like birth certificates or irreplaceable family items. I’m not a monster. Then we drove to the local dump and, well, we dumped it. I’m not going to lie, watching the garbage truck compact all his designer clothes and stupid video game collectibles was was surprisingly therapeutic. As we were driving back, Randy called from a number I didn’t recognize. I’m guessing he borrowed a phone since I had blocked his. I didn’t answer, but he left a message saying his car had been repossessed and he needed to get his stuff from my place to at least have something to wear to work tomorrow. Too late, Randy. Too late. I’m back at my apartment now. It feels weirdly empty without all his things, but also peaceful. I changed all the locks today. My landlord was super understanding when I explained the situation. I know some people might think what I did was extreme, but after 3 years of putting him first and being treated like a doormat, it felt like exactly what he deserved. More updates to come as the fallout continues. His friend Jake has been blowing up my phone with angry messages, and apparently Amber from work is now confused about why Randy is suddenly being so cold to her. The dominoes are still falling. Edit: for those asking about legal issues, don’t worry. I checked with a friend who knows about this stuff. The car was in his name, but I made the payments as gifts. I was never legally responsible for it. Plus I kept all the really important documents I found. I’m not that petty LOL.

Second update: y’all are literally the best. The support on my last post was insane, and so many of you wanted another update, so here’s the tea on everything that’s happened in the past week since ry’s belongings found their new home at the local dump LOL. So anyway, the morning after the dump trip, I woke up to this weird scratching sound at my apartment door. Like, not loud enough to be knocking, but definitely someone was there. I checked my doorbell cam—thank God I installed one last year after that package thief situation in my building—and saw Randy sitting on the floor outside my door looking completely wrecked. His hair was all messed up. He was wearing the same clothes from 2 days ago, and he was just riding something. I turned up the volume and realized he was sliding notes under my door one by one. I tiptoed to the door, still in my PJs, and saw like seven little paper notes that had been pushed under. Each one had a different message: please talk to me, I need my stuff for work, my boss is going to fire me, my parents won’t talk to me, my car is gone, what did you tell everyone, I’m sleeping in Jake’s car, please answer. Part of me felt a tiny bit bad seeing him like that for about 3 seconds, then I remembered sitting alone in that restaurant for 2 hours while he planned to humiliate me. Nope. Not today, Satan. I qui collected all the notes, evidence just in case, and went to make coffee. My curig decided to stop working mid brew, of course it would choose now to break, so I had to resort to the emergency instant coffee I keep for power outages. The day was already off to a stellar start L. While sipping my sad coffee, I checked my phone: 83 missed calls overnight, texts from numbers I didn’t recognize, and 17 voicemails. Randy had been busy. I was about to delete them all when I noticed one from his mom. Hm. Interesting. I decided to listen to that one. She sounded upset but not angry. She thanked me for opening her eyes about how her son really felt and asked if we could talk sometime. She said she’d had no idea about ry’s behavior and was deeply ashamed that she’d rais someone who would treat a partner that way. I saved that voicemail but deleted the rest. Edit: a lot of you are asking if I called his mom back. Not yet. I’m still processing everything and don’t want to get pulled into family drama. Maybe someday.

I was getting ready to head to Emma’s—my apartment felt weirdly empty and I kept jumping at every sound—when my doorbell rang. I checked the camera again and Randy was gone, but his friend Jake was there. Great. I didn’t answer, but Jake started talking anyway, knowing I could hear through the door. He said Randy was a broken man and I needed to stop this revenge game because it had gone too far. Then he said something that made me pause. He claimed he had never been at the restaurant and had no idea what Randy did until afterward. Wait, what? But he was there. I literally watched him laugh at ry’s jokes about me. Was he seriously trying to gaslight me too? I checked the doorbell cam recording later and realized Jake had been filming the whole time he was talking, probably trying to get me to say something he could use against me. Sneaky jerk.

After Jake left, I grabbed an overnight bag and headed to Emma’s. On the way, I decided to check my bank account—anxiety, am I right—and saw the car payment refund had already processed. That was fast. Usually these things take forever. I did a little happy dance right there on the sidewalk, probably looking like a complete weirdo to everyone walking by L. At Emma’s, we ordered takeout and I finally felt safe enough to go through everything that had happened systematically. She helped me make a timeline of all the events. I told you, I’m a list person: one, restaurant humiliation Thursday night; two, discovered Randy’s emails about planning it Friday morning; 3, sent voice clips to boss and parents Friday afternoon; four, belongings taken to the dump Sunday morning. It looked so calculated when written out like that. For a moment, I wondered if I’d gone too far. Emma must have seen my face because she grabbed my phone, pulled up the screenshots of ry’s emails planning my humiliation, and made me read them again out loud. Nope. I hadn’t gone too far. Not even close.

Later that afternoon, I got curious about how effective my little telegram operation had been. I created a new Instagram account—don’t worry, used a completely random name and stock photo—and looked up ry’s profile, which was set to public because he’s trying to build a personal brand, his words, not m. OMG y’all, his latest post was a long rambling apology about how he had made some mistakes and hurt people who didn’t deserve it. Classic vag booking without actually admitting what he did. The comments were a mess. His friends were asking what happened. Some girl, probably Amber, had commented call me with a sad face emoji. And his cousin had written Grandma’s asking why you’re not answering her calls. While I was scrolling—okay, fine, I was totally stalking—I got a text from a mutual friend Damon. He’s more ry’s friend than mine, so I was surprised to hear from him. The text just said can we talk, not taking sides, just confused. I ignored it at first, but he followed up with Randy told everyone you hacked his accounts and stole from him but that doesn’t sound like you hacked his accounts stole from him. Oh hell no. I called Damon immediately. He picked up on the first ring and sounded genuinely shocked to hear from me. The conversation was illuminating. According to Damon, Randy had told everyone a completely different story. He claimed I had gone psycho after a tiny joke at dinner, hacked into his personal accounts, stolen money from him, and destroyed all his possessions out of female hysteria—his actual words. He was painting himself as the victim of a crazy ex-girlfriend. I took a deep breath and asked Damon one question: do you want to know what really happened? When he said yes, I didn’t hold back. I told him everything. The 2-hour wait. The public humiliation. The discovery of the planned emails. The voice messages Randy had sent about his boss and parents. The fact that I had been paying for his car while he mocked me behind my back. I even played him one of the voice clips I’d saved where Randy called me his personal ATM to his friends. There was a long silence on the phone, then Damon just said holy. He’s been lying to all of us. Apparently, Randy had been spinning stories about me for months to his friend group, claiming I was clingy, financially controlling, and emotionally unstable. None of it was true, but they had believed him because, well, he was their friend. Damon apologized for not reaching out sooner and asked if he could tell the others the truth. I said he could share what I’d told him.

The next morning, I finally felt ready to go back to my apartment. Emma came with me—she’s seriously the best friend ever—to make sure Randy wasn’t lurking around. The hallway was clear, but there were more notes under my door. This time they were angrier: you’re ruining my life and you regret this, and my personal favorite I know what you did with my stuff. Um yeah, I took it to the dump. That wasn’t exactly a secret La. I spent the day deep cleaning my apartment and rearranging furniture. It’s amazing how moving a couch to a different wall can make a space feel completely new. I threw out the sheets from our bed—too many memories—and ordered new ones online. I even hung up some art prints I’d been keeping in the closet because Randy thought they were too girly. My apartment was becoming mine again.

Wednesday morning brought a new development. I got an email from ry’s workplace—not from his boss but from HR. They were investigating a situation and wanted to know if I would be willing to provide any relevant information about ry’s professional conduct. I’m guessing his boss showed the voice clips to HR after putting Randy on probation. I replied that I would share what I knew, which was limited to voice messages Randy had sent me voluntarily where he discussed his workplace and colleagues. I emphasized that I hadn’t recorded anything myself or obtained anything illegally. They seemed satisfied with that and asked me to forward any relevant messages. I sent them three of the worst ones where Randy called his boss incompetent, claimed to be doing his boss’s job for him, and admitted to taking extended breaks without telling anyone. I don’t know what happened after that, but but ry’s Instagram that evening had a cryptic post about unemployment in America, so draw your own conclusions LOL.

Thursday was when things got weird. I was at the grocery store when I literally ran into ry’s mom. Awkward. I tried to smile politely and move on, but she stopped me. She asked if we could talk for a minute. She wasn’t angry at all. Instead, she thanked me for sending those voice clips. Apparently she and ry’s dad had been supporting him financially for years without realizing he was mocking them behind their backs. The car I thought I was helping pay off, they had actually put the down payment on it and co-signed the loan. Randy had been taking money from them and me. She apologized for raising someone who would treat anyone the way Randy treated me. I could see she was genuinely heartbroken. I didn’t have the heart to tell her about the emails planning my humiliation or the other girl. Some things parents just don’t need to know.

When I got home, there was a package outside my door. No notes this time, just a small Amazon box. I was nervous to open it, thinking it might be some weird gift from Randy, but inside was a Starbucks gift card and a note from my neighbor across the hall thanking me for finally getting rid of that loud jerk. Apparently Randy would blast music when I wasn’t home and had been rude to several neighbors.

Last night, exactly one week after the restaurant incident, I finally changed all my social media to private and blocked ry’s new accounts. He’s created three since I blocked his original ones. I also changed my phone number, which I’d been putting off because it’s such a hassle, but it was worth it for the peace of mind. And then this morning, drum roll please, I got a letter from the car loan company confirming that the loan had been terminated and the vehicle repossessed. They included photos of the car being towed from outside Jake’s apartment where Randy has apparently been crashing. The letter stated that due to the evidence provided regarding fraudulent represent they wouldn’t be pursuing any further action against the loan was ry’s problem now. Emma called to check on me and asked if I felt bad about any of it. I thought about it for a minute and realized I don’t. Not even a little bit. Randy spent 3 years taking everything he could from me—my money, my time, my self-esteem. All I did was show everyone who he really is using his own words and actions.

So what’s next? I’ve started putting the car payment money into a savings account instead, and I’m considering adopting a cat from the local shelter, something Randy would never allow because he claimed to be allergic. He wasn’t. I once found anti means in his gym bag that he’d take before visiting his cat owning parents. As for Randy, last I heard from Damon, he’s still staying on Jake’s couch. Still doesn’t have a job. His car is gone. His stuff is gone. And his reputation is in shambles, all because he couldn’t resist publicly humiliating the one person who had been supporting him for years. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes, I guess. Edit: thanks for all the support everyone. To address some common questions: one, no, I don’t think I’ll ever speak to Randy again, not even for closure; two, yes, I did check with a friend who knows legal stuff, everything I did was within my rights; three, no, I didn’t keep anything of his except important documents which I’ll mail to his parents; four, yes, I’m thinking of changing the locks again because I’m paranoid he made copies; five, I’ll update again if anything major happens, but hopefully this chapter of my life is closed. Edit two: several people have asked about the voice messages and how I sent them. I didn’t do anything complicated. I literally just forwarded the telegram voice messages he had sent me to the people he talked about in them. Telegram makes it super easy to forward messages or save them and send them in a new chat, no hacking required.

Last update: hey Reddit fam, it’s been ages since my last update, like 6 months OMG, and so many of you have dm’d asking how things turned out after the whole Randy saga. Figured it was time for a proper closure post. First off, I moved about a month after everything went down. I was still feeling weird in my old apartment. My lease was ending anyway, so I found a smaller but cuter place across town. It costs a bit more but is worth every penny for the peace of mind. Also, I got a cat. Her name is commie and she’s this sassy tortoise shell who absolutely hates men for some reason. My brother came over to help me assemble bookshelf and she hissed at him the entire time, but she literally sleeps on my pillow every night purring like a lawn mower. Soul sister much. I’ve been saving the car payment money that used to go to ry’s Mustang, and it’s added up to over $2,300. I’m using some of it for a solo trip to Portland next month. I’ve never traveled alone before and I’m nervous but also super excited. Characters 1015. Now for the Randy updates because I know that’s what most of you are here for LOL.

About a month after my last post, Randy lost his job completely, not because of the voice messages I sent, though those didn’t help, but because he kept showing up late and apparently had a meltdown in a meeting. I know this because his mom still texts me occasionally. We’ve developed this weird, not friendship exactly, but mutual respect. Randy moved back in with his parents for a while, but according to his mom that didn’t last long. He kept breaking their house rules, coming home drunk at 3:00 a.m., not helping with anything, being rude to them, so they gave him an ultimatum: get a job and contribute or move out. He chose to move out and is now apparently crashing on various friends’ couches, though his friend circle has shrunk dramatically. His car was sold at auction by the loan company and get this, it’s sold for less than what was still over on it, so he still has to make payments on a car he doesn’t even have anymore. His mom said he tried to blame me legally for this, but his own lawyer told him he didn’t have a case since the payments I made were considered gifts and I had evidence of his fraud. The girl from his work Amber is now apparently his girlfriend, though from what I’ve heard through mutual friends it’s super toxic. She found out he was talking to other girls on Tinder while with her but took him back anyway. They’ve broken up and gotten back together like four times already.

Poor girl is where I was 3 years ago, and I genuinely hope she figures it out faster than I did. Oh, I almost forgot the weirdest part of this whole saga. 3 months ago, ry’s brother reached out to me on Instagram. We’d only met like twice during my relationship with Randy so it was super random. He apologized for his brother’s behavior and then asked me out. I was like sir this is not appropriate LOL. I politely declined and blocked him too. Some people have zero self-awareness, I swear. I added up approximately how much I spent on Randy over our three years together, between the car payments, covering rent when he was between jobs, paying for most of our dates, and various loans that were never repaid, and it came to over 30,000.

That’s a down payment on a house. I could have traveled the world. I could have paid off my student loans. Instead, I funded the lifestyle of someone who called me a pathetic puppy to my face. Edit: some people in the comments are saying I went too far by getting him fired and sending stuff to his parents. First, I didn’t get him fired, his own words got him fired. Second, if you’re still defending him after he planned and executed a public humiliation of someone who supported him for years, maybe examine why that is. Some of you have asked if I would ever consider talking to him again for closure or whatever. The answer is no. I don’t need to hear his excuses or his side of the story. My closure came when I walked out of that restaurant 6 months ago. Everything since then has just been confirmation that I made the right choice. So that’s where things stand, Reddit. If you take anything from my story, let it be this: when someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time, and if they call you a pathetic puppy, take their car and dump their stuff at the local landfill. That’s just a joke at mostly.