What do I get out of this?

I got asked that last night. From the father of my boys. What. Do. I. Get? Uh…I gave life to your offspring. I raise them with all the love and caring in the world. I make your house a home. I keep it clean. I cook your meals. I have stuck by tour side through some of the worst shit imaginable. I never once gave up on you like so many have in the past. I have cheered you on through all of your accomplishments. Accomplishments that never would have been made had I not been there, helping you along the way. Accomplishments made through your sobriety that I helped you through. What do you get? A secretary, an accountant, a manager, someone who does literally everything aside from wipe your ass for you. The house would fall apart if I wasn’t fixing everything. It would be nothing but holes in the walls had I not patched every one you made. 

What do I get? You get everything handed to you on a silver platter. Everything..your money, your property…..all served up with a nice little bow and here I am, struggling to pay bills. 

How about what I get? 

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