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The original was posted on /r/maliciouscompliance by /u/throwrathrowra on 2025-06-27 20:36:02+00:00.

This happened about ten years ago, but it still makes me laugh every time I think about it.

I was in my early twenties, dating this guy who was ridiculously controlling and full of himself. Classic narcissist. Everything revolved around him, and in his mind, he could do no wrong. You know the type. Anyway, after I caught him cheating, I finally hit my limit and told him I was done for good.

The way I found out he was cheating was the best part. I’d had my suspicions for a while, so I went through his phone. Sure enough, there were months of messages between him and some girl he worked with. Flirty garbage, talking about how he couldn’t wait to leave me… all that nonsense. But one text in particular had me rolling my eyes. He had sent her this the day before:

“She’s driving me crazy. She’s got me through the roof. I need you so bad, babe.”

Got me through the roof? Pretty sure that’s not how the expression goes. Your blood pressure can be through the roof. Your anxiety, your rage… sure. But unless you’re Spider-Man or a haunted Victorian child, you are not through the damn roof.

The next morning while he was at work, I texted him and said I was done. He kept pressing me to explain, but I never admitted I’d read his messages. I let him stew in his own arrogance until he finally realized I wasn’t bluffing.

By that point, he had pretty much moved into my house. So naturally, he wanted all his stuff back. He texted me something like, “You better have all my shit outside when I get there. And I mean every fucking bit of it. I’m not making two trips.”

Oh, don’t worry, sweetheart.

I gathered every last thing he had at my place, which included at least a third of his wardrobe, a pile of overpriced hats, two pairs of pristine Jordans, and an iPad. I stuffed everything (minus the iPad) into a trash bag, tied it loosely, walked outside, and launched it straight onto the roof. Some of his clothes flew out mid-air and scattered across the yard. Most of it landed on the roof and just chilled up there like it paid rent.

As for the iPad, I put it in a box and set it near the edge of the driveway. Not long after, a couple of teenagers walked by and peeked inside. I was sitting on the porch when one of them asked, “Is this yours?”

“Nope.”

“Can we have it?”

“Sure. Why not.”

He said to put his stuff outside. He never said I had to guard it.

About two hours later, he pulled up, saw his clothes strewn across the lawn and a trash bag dangling off the roof, and lost it. He started pounding on the door, furious, yelling, “Why the fuck are my clothes on the roof?!”

I swung the door open, looked him dead in the eye, and said, “Well, judging by the texts you sent your little girlfriend… apparently, I had you through the roof. I figured your clothes might as well join you. You told me to put your shit outside. You didn’t say where.”

He stood there red-faced, fists clenched, seething. “And how the fuck am I supposed to get my shit off the roof?”

I shrugged, smiled sweetly, and said, “Maybe your girlfriend can loan you a ladder,” then slammed the door in his face.

He did come back later with a ladder. Whether or not she loaned it to him, I couldn’t say. I stayed inside with the door locked and haven’t heard much from him since.

ETA: The one and only time I talk to him after the break up was the next day when he texted to ask if he could come get his iPad.😂 I told him the truth… That I sat it outside like he asked me to. If it’s not there, I guess someone stole it. Sorry. I don’t think he believed me because he threatened to GPS track it. I told him to go ahead. Don’t know if he was ever able to locate it or not because I blocked his number after that. Lol.