Part I ~ Part II ~ Part III ~ Part IV ~ Part V ~ Part VI ~ Part VII ~ Part VIII ~ Part IX ~ Part X ~ Part XI ~ Part XII ~ Part XIII ~ Part XIV ~ Part XV

The Kris Story, Part XVI
or...Roses
8.29.8

That night I held a party of my own. I invited all of our friends to my apartment to celebrate this new independence of mine. They all supported me in taking my stand against Kris. Most of them, in fact, wondered why it had taken me so long to reach that point in the first place.

It was a wonderful night, but like most good things, Kris seemed intent on ruining it. A few hours into the soirée, there was a knock at the door. I was in the kitchen making shots, so somebody took it upon themselves to open the door for me. Suddenly, a flood of people I didn't know began pouring into the apartment, led by Kris.

In a truly horrendous and selfish act, she had apparently decided to make her own stand by creating a big unnecessary show out of my request for her to "get her stuff." She had absolutely no reason to fear anything in that apartment. This was not some kind of protection squad, who wished only to lend support to her; they were there for the sole purpose of intimidation. They postured and strutted around the place, laughing at the situation and making fun of me and my friends. In hindsight, the most telling thing about Kris, perhaps, was that she was willing to bring that whole gang of people to me on that night, thinking that I would be alone. The most telling thing about her new friends, of course, was that they went along with it.

Fortunately for everyone involved, my friends were not like the stupid, violent scumbags that Kris had brought. Instead of responding to their provocations in kind, they respectfully disarmed the situation. Some distracted the miscreants with shots and friendly conversation. Others did their best to inform these people of the truth about their new leader. I simply walked around stopping them from stealing items that had never belonged to Kris.

When they were done, the white trash parade headed down the apartment stairs. Kris was the last to exit, carrying a large white trash bag full of clothes and makeup. I followed her outside. As she descended the steps, I called out to her, "Kris..."

As she turned to look up at me, I saw tears in her eyes. I said to her calmly, "I love you." I suppose I still did. While my epiphany in the storm had given me the strength to stand up to her, I still had those last lingering feelings for her.

"I love you, too," she whispered, before turning her back to me.

Whether because of that confusing tearful goodbye or because of my own sense of denial, I still believed that she would come back to me one day. In preparation, I began buying one red rose each evening. The roses would spend each following day in a white vase by my front door, sitting atop a letter to Kris marked, "(all you need to know)." Inside the envelope was a letter that simply said, "I love you."

Stupid and melodramatic, I know...but I was certain that she would soon realize the error of her ways and come crawling back. When she did so, I wanted that fresh rose to be there, proving that I had never completely given up hope.

Don't get me wrong. I was still determined to get my life back on track. I directly contacted her only to try and convince her to sever our legal connections. We had a lease together, a joint bank account...we were practically married. At this point, I began to feel like I was in a movie, desperately trying to convince Helen Hunt to sign the damned divorce papers already!

My forced connection with Kris was becoming interminable. She would accept schedules to come with me to the leasing office, but was never anywhere to be found when the time came to do so. She would have people lie to me about whether or not she was working each day. She simply refused to actually help me officially end our relationship!

Eventually, frustration got the best of me. After being told for the umpteenth time by a Zio's employee that she wasn't at work at a time she was scheduled to be, I finally snapped, making a vague threat before hanging up the phone. When her manager called me a moment later, I ended up pouring my heart out, crying about how all I wanted to do was be done with Kris.

20 minutes later, the police were at my door. 20 minutes more and I was on a 72-hour involuntary hold.

After that, I became much more aware of the realities of my situation. Kris was obviously never coming back and I began to liken my unwillingness to accept this fact to a form of Stockholm Syndrome. I was having trouble sleeping and had begun worrying about things I had never really considered before (like the possibility that she could have given me HIV at some point). It was also around this time that I stopped buying roses. The content of the letter underneath the final dying rose also changed to a new 3 word phrase: "Go fuck yourself."

On November 5th, 2004, I changed the locks to the apartment. It's funny...even then I still had all of Kris' pictures hanging on the wall. The new locks would do no good, though, until she was signed off of the lease. Until then, she could always have just requested a new copy from the leasing office.

When November 12th came along, I knew I absolutely had to get everything done. I showed up at their apartment and, to my surprise, she answered the door. I dryly appealed to her obviously flawed sense of decency, asking her to come with me so I could just be "free, for God's sake."

She surprised me again when she actually agreed to come with me to sign all the appropriate papers. We drove in silence, first to the bank, then to my leasing office.

After she had initialled the final box, Kris said to the person behind the desk, "Hold on...I've got to get the key."

"It doesn't matter," I said.

"Wait, I just need to get the key," she repeated, fumbling with her keyring.

"It doesn't matter, Kris," I said, raising my voice, "The locks have already been changed."

That was the only time I really remember her looking embarrassed by anything. Ironic, considering all of the shameful things she had done in the past. We walked out in silence while the entire staff of the leasing office continued to stare. When I pulled up to Steve's apartment a few minutes later, she got out of the car and shut the door. She stood by the open window for a moment. I don't remember if she spoke then, but do remember saying to her, "Goodbye Kris," before quickly pulling away.

That was the last time I ever saw Kris Barnes.