Can’t I just do laundry?

oh, I am such a very stupid, stupid girl.  The Monster came for dinner tonight after his weekly counseling, to visit with the young ones.  He has been trying to find a sign from me that it will all be ok and he and I will be bloodily ever after, as I knew he would.  I however, have been handling it fantastically with only a couple slipups where I allowed him to bait me into a fight.  Lately, things had calmed down between us and we were able to banter like acquaintances that didn’t know every single emotional button that rested in the other’s head.

My mistake, was when I dared to tell him that I got actual feedback on my photography.  Well, that doesn’t seem too terrible, you might think.  That would be a correct assumption for actual people.  Monsters, however, have this lovely ability to take anything and turn it into a way of clawing, ripping at your emotions as if the anecdote to some lethal poison they ingested, was kept hidden in your chest.  So this simple bit of chit-chat, turned into you flying in, sweeping me off my feet and carrying me away on a white horse.  We will then reside in a fairy land of make-believe where he would be left alone and forgotten.
The next hour or so, was spent with him weeping, professing his undying love, desire to fix all that he’s destroyed, and boldly declaring that a mere handful of counseling sessions, has changed a lifetime of reality altering defense mechanisms.  Being the creature of kindness I am, ha, more like doormat, I tried to calm him down, assure him that would never happen.  Afterall, why would someone travel around the world for me?  Thus began the ode to Wayne’s World.  I wasn’t worthy, I was scum, I suck.  You know, the usual routine to stroke the Monster’s prickly fur.  Amazing how easily he can stand once he has me to step on.  As I noticed this too familiar routine, I stopped myself, and attempted to do the healthy, detached, “I’m sorry you’re upset.  Perhaps we should talk another time” broken record bit.
Eventually, he left, with tears in his eyes and a quivering, “I love you” as he slowly walked away in the darkness.  I closed the door, stared at it for a moment, blinked a few times with my “resting bitch face” in full force and said, “Note to self, he will never be your friend” and went to match up clean socks.

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