A month ago my father reached out to ask if he could spend the night on Saturday to fly out of our bigger airport early on Sunday morning. I had told him my boyfriend would be leaving out of town for work but I’d love to see him.
I was supposed to follow up and make dinner plans and go through details but my dad is as bad as planning as I am and neither of us touched base. A lot happened over the next few weeks and the last couple days have been extra insane – to be fair to myself.
I had worked super late on Friday and stayed at a motel compliments of my job, then rushed back home to see my boyfriend before he left town.
I was feeling terrible for an injury that I had accidentally given him yesterday morning that meant he couldn’t have sex for a few weeks (4-6 weeks according to both his actual doctor and all the doctors on Reddit). I posted about that on tifu already if you want to see the horrible details of what I did and why I felt like a serial killer with guilt.