The next morning I came down to the kitchen to Ronnie sitting at the table eating breakfast. I walked over and poured myself a cup of coffee.
Ronnie looked up to me. "Hey, I made some breakfast if you want some."
I took a sip of my coffee, then looked up to him, still standing by the coffee pot with both of my hands holding my coffee cup. "Ron, we need to talk about this."
He sighed and set his fork down. "No we don't." he said as he looked up at me.
I set my cup down and walked to the table, but across from him. "Yes we do. We haven't even talked about it at all, and with what you did last night, I can't keep silent about it any longer."
He slammed his fists down on the table and stood up looking at me with an angry look. He made me jump slightly. "I said: I. don't. want. To. Talk. About. It. Just drop it!" He tried to leave but I followed close behind him.
"I am not going to drop it! In case you forgot, I am going through the same thing you are. I am trying to help you as your friend, because I care about you."
He stopped walking, as did I, and he turned around to face me. "if you are really my friend, then you will drop this." he turned back around and started to walk away yet again.
I started back after him and grabbed his arm and turned him around. He pulled his arm from my grip, I was not backing down, and he was starting to make me angry. "What is your problem? Why is it such a big deal to talk about what's going on? God knows what would have happened had me and Kix not shown up last night."
He was tensing up more and more and he had a fist made. "I don't have to talk about anything to you, you're not my mother."
"I am not your mother, but I am your friend!"
"I'm done, you need to drop the subject."
"Or what? What are you going to do?"
He got really close to me, face to face. "I will do something I will regret."
At this point I was very upset, and a little scared. Ronnie has never in the whole time I have known him, made me feel afraid of him. He has changed.
I walked over to the door and opened it. "Fine, then I don't want you in my house, so get out."
"Where the hell do you expect me to go?" he didn't move a muscle, other then to turn and look at me.
"I don't care where you go. You have money, go rent a hotel room, but I don't want you in my house anymore."
"I'm not going anywhere."
I slammed the door. "Jesus Christ, you're starting to sound like Narvel!" I regretted the words the second they left my mouth.
He rushed over to me looking very angry. I backed up away from him. Before I knew it he punched me in the face.
I grabbed my face and looked at him in shock. He turned past me and walked out of my house.
I slid down onto the floor and just cried into my hands. What has my life turned into?