I was simply cleaning one day.
I was dusting off shelves and cleaning out cabinets, nothing dramatic. But then, nestled beneath a stack of forgotten junk, I discovered a note attached to a picture of a woman I’d never met:
“Dear Matt’s Future Girlfriend,
I know it’s you reading this because he’d never clean back here. I’m putting this here because I’m leaving him soon and want to warn you about him:
1) He will not clean.
2) He will not listen.
3) He will make everything feel like it’s YOUR fault.
It’s not your fault, he’s just an incompetent man. I’m leaving him, I suggest you do the same.
Best wishes, Teresa.
(PS: That’s me in the picture & I’m really happy now after breaking up with this unhygienic stinky bomb ;))”
Something told me she wasn’t lying because Matt was often putting off cleaning. We’d been together for two years and lived together for eight months.
Dishes sat in the sink until I finally washed them. The trash piled up. And laundry was unfolded.
When Matt arrived home, I held up the note.
“What the hell is this?” I asked.
“Rachel, don’t even start. She’s crazy. You have no idea what I went through with her.”
I crossed my arms. “I mean, Matt… the cleaning thing? It’s not nothing. I hadn’t really put it together until now, but you’ve been doing less and less. And you never cleaned back there. That’s how I found it.”
His voice rose, making me flinch. “Two years together, and you’re going to let some bitter ex’s note destroy everything we’ve built?”
“I pay half the rent, don’t I? I buy groceries sometimes. What more do you want from me?”
“I want a partner! Not someone I have to mother!”
When I departed to stay at a friend’s apartment that night, his last text read:
“I’m sorry you felt like you had to leave. But seriously, Rachel? You’re choosing a note over our relationship? Over me? Over our pets?”
The next morning, I returned and attempted to reason again.
I aimed to be fair and logical. I even kept a tally of all the times I had to remind him to clean up after himself.
“You’re being ridiculous. This isn’t you, Rachel. This isn’t us.”
“Maybe this is exactly who I am,” I whispered, my voice stronger than I felt. “Maybe I’m finally seeing clearly for the first time.”
His eyes sparkled with something unreadable, which I did not like. But after a long, anxious beat, he stepped back. That was the moment I realized I was over.
I contacted my brother and asked him to meet me at the flat after Matt went to work. I needed help while I collected my belongings.
While I was packing, I tucked in my own note just next to Teresa’s.
“Dear Matt,
Clean your dirty house.
Best wishes,
Rachel.”
That night, I lay awake in my friend’s guest room with the ceiling fan whirring above me.
My thoughts would not shut off. Who was Teresa? What was her actual relationship with Matt like?
It took some searching, but I discovered her on social media.
I hesitated before typing out a message.
“Hi Teresa. You don’t know me, but I think I just found your note at Matt’s place.”
“Oh wow. I was wondering if someone would ever find it. Do you want to meet up?”
I didn’t even hesitate. “Yes. Coffee tomorrow? At Black Coffee Beanz?”
Meeting Teresa was weird. I expected hatred and animosity. Instead, she was kind and compassionate.
When I mentioned my pets in Matt’s place, she became stiff.
“Rachel… he used to get destructive when he was angry.”
The landlord was sympathetic, especially after Teresa explained she was a lawyer and offered to accompany me. He agreed to allow me to break the lease, but I would have to pay for August.
I stepped in at midday, and my stomach fell. Dishes lay shattered on the floor. He had ripped my clothing. And my pet rats’ cage was open.
However, movement drew my attention. Two small noses peeked out of a shoebox. I was relieved. My beautiful pets were unharmed. I had to sit down since my breath was so unsteady.
That night, I nestled into my new house, and my pets snuggled up next to me. Teresa and I celebrated our new beginnings with lemonade and takeout.
