TIFU: Pretended I didn't head-butt my date's refrigerator

This wasn't today, but I recently remembered it and thought it could be good for a laugh.

I had just started dating my now ex-boyfriend, I'll call him Alex. I want to say it was our second or third date. We were at his house watching a movie, and at one point I got thirsty and went to the fridge in the kitchen to get some water. The apartment was laid out like one big room with a wall in the middle to separate the kitchen and living room, with a couple bedrooms and a bathroom at the back. This meant that I could still hear the movie pretty well, so thankfully it wasn't paused and Alex stayed in the living room to watch.

The fridge was one of those really small ones that's pretty short, and the drinks were on the bottom shelf, so I knelt down so that I could find a water bottle. I honestly don't really understand what occurred next.

I went to stand up, and I must have been standing too close to the fridge. I was young, privileged, and had never encountered a fridge so short - or one with square shaped handles quite that sharp. I bashed the center of my forehead into the freezer handle while standing up, and immediately saw stars. My head was spinning, and my forehead felt like someone had sliced it open with a blunt knife.

I ran to the bathroom to inspect the damage, and there was indeed an open gash right down the very center of my head. I panicked.

Grabbing toilet paper to cover my head, I started looking for a bandaid. Everyone has bandaids right? It wasn't ideal to have a fucking bandaid right smack in the middle of my face, but at least I wouldn't be actively bleeding anymore.

Except he didn't have any. Anywhere. At this point I would have accepted a hat, a bandana even a goddamn haircut if it would cover my forehead. There was literally nothing in this stupid, empty bathroom to help me.

Thankfully in the time I'd been searching, the bleeding had slowed to a nearly imperceptible ooze. For some unknown reason, I figured the best course of action would be to just pretend like there was absolutely nothing wrong. At this point I had been gone for nearly 20 minutes, so when I casually walked back into the living room and sat down on the couch, Alex immediately turned to me and said: "Hey where were you- OH MY GOD WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR FACE?"

Still committed to my plan, I feigned ignorance and actually asked him what was wrong. Eventually I did decide to acknowledge the giant cut on my forehead, and for a minute I considered gaslighting him into believing it had been there all day, but decided that this was going too far.

Admitting defeat, I explained what had happened in the kitchen. After making sure I was okay, he was howling with laughter that probably woke up all his neighbors. If you haven't discovered by my stupid plan to pretend that my war wounds from the battle of the refrigerator didn't exist, I'm a very proud person, and I tried every justification to insist it wasn't my fault, and even blamed him for having a short fridge. He obviously didn't care and just kept laughing, and I still to this day don't know why we ever went out again. Side note, I'm ridiculously clumsy, so sticking with me through this ordeal really proved that he was prepared for what was to come.

I wore a lot of hats during the start of our relationship to cover the healing wound, but I never usually wear them. Alex and I are still really good friends, and every time a picture of me from that time in a hat comes up he gets to joyfully relive the time I pretended not to have brutally injured myself during a date.

The best I can claim is that I was concussed.

TL;DR: I bashed the center of my forehead into my date's fridge handle, sliced open my head, disappeared for 20 minutes, and then tried to sit back down next to him like nothing had happened. He immediately discovered my brilliant scheme and has never let me live it down.