|
she was shocked that she was crying today.
in the bed with the heated mattress pad and the tortie cat allowing her to sleep,
she had been more cynical about the whole thing
the fucking shoplifting narcissistic dick of a toxic wimp filming me while I'm down then throwing me to wolves...
it's so much easier to move with anger.
sorrow slows.
so a few hundred tears for the 240 days that she had been
divorced from the giant flesh pot teddy bear rock
who had been weekly fucked and breakfast made and
although it was
HARD
at first for her to latch to him and that first year was
precarious with the stepchildren and all it made it more model-worthy.
she became someone who wished he would go out with his friend or people from work and wished he would play video games immediately and wished he'd go on vacation to visit his parents. it scared her towards the end because she had seen this before in #1 when she would dread the thought of his car being in the drive when she came back from doing nothing but walking dogs. It became something she couldn't see her way out of - she was stuck. She then self-sabotaged and got herself in need of a shit job so she wasn't even in the position to attempt to follow her dream.
the patterns are so weirdly the same - instead of LA it's the Bay yet loss of friend - gain of very eager new one. shitty apartment - move to Georgia - complete poverty after being irregardless to price.
Except now, seven more trips around our star.
Plasma donation was not something she often did. She had done it during the Wilmington madness when Mark was away and she exploded her head. She liked beer, and the weekly salary was hard. Now, she finds beer the easiest to give up although she misses the fuck out of it. It's bizarre though to her - like coming out of a coma.
she likes to marry them in pisces eh
|
