It had been a shitty week for Marvin.

First, he broke up with you. That already sucked. Because he loved you (sorta-kinda) and he needed you (sorta-kinda), but your relationship was going nowhere and fast. After a disastrous game of chess, he brought you your packed suitcase and sat it right in front of your feet. How long had he been planning this?

And then only a few days later, his ex-wife (whom he still cares deeply about) sent him an invite to her wedding.

Her wedding.

She was marrying his psychiatrist.

His psychiatrist!

Marvin had always had a temper. He had always been mean, and sweet, but mostly angry all the time. All he wanted was love. Can’t anybody understand? All he wants is love.

He and Mendel fight. He breaks a vase, punches the wall. Jason stands in the corner, frightened, watching. Trina steps up to talk some sense into her ex-husband. Marvin slaps her.

Marvin takes a step back and grasps his hands like he knows he’s done something terrible. He stares at Trina. He makes an attempt to apologize, but Trina cuts him off. She cries in Mendel’s arms. She tells him she never wanted to love him.

Jason has called you to the house by this point, having slipped into the kitchen to use the landline. You begrudgingly arrive to pick up your ex-boyfriend. Ex-lover. Whatever the hell he is to you besides dead.

He has lost his mind. He has never been so uncouth; he has never been so unkind. This is not the Marvin you know and love.

You ensure everything is alright with Trina, Mendel and Jason before escorting Marvin out to your truck. You drive him home. Why is it always, even after you’ve split, that you have to clean up his messes like he is a child?

Marvin is catatonic. He knows he screwed up.

Neither of you have spoken for five or ten minutes. He breaks the silence.

“I never, ever, ever wanted to love you,” he whispers.