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Because I can't bear to eulogize Doug - 2008-08-19
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3:37 p.m. - 2004-06-13
The ever savvy Trin asked what would happen if I disappeared for a couple days. It’s a fair question. The answer is: No. Somehow, taking it on the lam no longer appeals. I’m not wanting to pull stunts and play games. Not anymore. Stuff like that is best left to the tempestuous newlyweds. This not wanting to play games is really the whole crux of the matter. I want this shit to be OVER. I don’t want to stand on my head or make grandstand plays just to get my husband to behave like a decent person. After all this time I simply want peace. This sturm and drang is beyond old. Time for him to just grow up already. Stop with the ego and the machismo and the need to be like his miserable father and relax. Let’s be good to each other. He tries sometimes, but he does all the easy crap. Flowers from Sam’s Club. A steak dinner during my PMS carnivore stage. An air conditioner. The things I truly want wouldn’t cost him a dime. But they are much dearer. A lot of what I want I’ve been asking for all along. Even during my prolonged imitation of a door mat. I want him to hear me. Not hear what he THINKS I’m saying. His ‘interpretations’ of what I said are so far off the mark it’s insulting. Everything is about him, too. Anything I ask for is a huge and crushing damnation of his entire personality and how bad do I suck for putting him down like that? He has never once understood how frigging EASY I make it for him. I speak kindly. I am explicit. Whether it’s a stage direction in the sack or what I’d like for Christmas, the delivery is fine-tuned to the moment and mood. And I’m never ever mean about it. Mike would sing a different song. I’m always putting him down. I’m always on his case. I make him feel like crap. I cut his balls off with my tongue and made earrings out of them. He’s so full of shit his eyes are brown. Progress? A little. But you know what? I’m tired of coaxing. And I’m damn tired of waiting. He’s had 22 years to get his shit together. I’ve blown so much smoke up his ass to keep his hurtsy little ego assuaged I’m surprised he doesn’t leak from the nostrils like a dragon. Enough. I don’t CARE who did what to who. Or who is wrong and who is right. The past isn’t anywhere near as important as the present. And the present sucks. He won’t pull his head out of his ass and look around to see the war is over. Duh. Can we just get on with things? I have no ultimate secret agenda. Not even to wear his testicles as earrings. I don’t want him to stop being who he is. He can be a better version of himself, though. Yes indeedy. He can be the man I know he’s capable of being. We can have the marriage I know we both want. But he’s GOT to stop being such a dickhead. I have been so very clear and so very patient for so very long. I can’t do it anymore. I won’t do it anymore. Life’s too short. And I’m staying right here. ~LA
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