IT'S CALLED BORDERLINE PERSONALITY DISORDER, BUT I JUST THOUGHT SHE WAS CRAZY

All together, we spent a little over a year together. Initially it was awesome, but over time strange things started happening. Especially when we moved in together. I think we broke up a half a dozen times, only to have her call me in a few days missing me. I would allow myself to get sucked back in. We lived together with another girl for a few months and things got really weird.
One night around halloween, we had done some acid and we were at this party. Things were going well until an old boyfriend of our housemate showed up. Things went downhill fast.
Before I knew it our housemate had stormed out to her car and stormed back in with a paperback copy of "No one gets out of here alive". What was weird was she was flipping through pages and spitting on them! She threw the spittle laden book at this thoroughly confused looking guy and began railing about how she was going to hire someone to break his fingers so he could never play guitar again and blah blah blah. It was time to go home.I knew the tail end of tripping could make one cranky, but this was a bit much.
Prior to this outburst (she was 18 by the way) the three of us had been discussing the merits of menage a trois and open relationships in general. One of them suggested we try it out when we got home. "WOO HOO"! I said to myself.
So we get home and there's nothing to drink. I go up to the corner store to score some wine, this was normally a 10-15 minute trip, but since I was still tripping, it took about 45. When I got home, I couldn't find Nicee. I looked high and low, she was nowhere to be found. The housemate was passed out in her bed. Turns out they had grown impatient and had gone on without me, Nicee was passed out under the covers laying across the width of the foot of the bed.
I spent the rest of the night up in the loft wondering where the hell Nicee was, occasionally climbing down and going out in the backyard to check under the canoe...again.
When she emerged the next morning from the housemates room naked and climbed up into the loft she was cavalier about the whole thing, announcing to me that it wasn't her first time with a girl and wouldn't be her last with a "so there" kind of bravado that pissed me off. I don't know if I was angry that I had missed out on the fun, that she had cheated on me and didn't appear to give a shit, or a combination of the two.
How did I deal with this? I ate some more acid and disappeared with a friend of mine for two days.
When I returned it was all "oh I'm so sorry, let me fuck your brains out".
(ghad...as I write this I am so glad I'm not 22 anymore!)
And then I got the itch. I missed the insulating comfort of the mountains, they were calling to me. I left for Colorado in January '82 with everything I owned packed into my truck. I had tried to get Nicee to come with me, but luckily for both of us, she declined.