Sweetheart, you're off celebrating the new year with Wheelie Boy.
Until seven or eight years ago, you didn't even know what Rosh Hashana was.
If it weren't for me, you still wouldn't have a clue.
I'm willing to bet that till you told him, he didn't either.
You spent six hours yesterday cooking for his dinner tonight.
He's eating very well.
Wanna know what I had for dinner?
Four strong whiskeys and water. The sad tale of a friend who is seeing a man who is entirely wrong for her. A drag queen trying one three dresses with rhinestones.
And a bowl of icecream.
Whoopie.
Gmar chassima tovah, bitches.
Didn't celebrate the moon festival either.
Single men don't celebrate, period.
We just sit and sulk. Alone.
It's what we do best.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
THEIR NATURAL HABITAT
There are more dogs in this neighborhood than children. One very rarely sees people walking their children outside when one is, hypothetical...
4 comments:
OK, I get the ice cream for a sweet new year, but no herring with your whiskey? Get a grip, man!
Also, seeing this ridiculousness she's going through is another reason it would be better to live apart. Wishing you a good, happier, year.
Tzipporah, I would rather be irritated by her life and her proximity than worried sick by her emotional state and her absence.
Yeah, never going to rekindle the old relationship. But she's still a part of me. An exhasperating teenage girl part of me.
So living apart won't work.
I'd rather be pissed off than frantic.
But the idea is that if you are apart, she's no longer present. Her daily mood swings are not on the radar. And you learn that she can take care of herself, and is not your problem anymore. Thus, not frantic.
A) I don't really think she can take care of herself.
B) Her moods swing less than mine.
Key factor to keep in mind: Apspergers. She does not notice my moods nearly as much as one might think. And I hide mine pretty damn well - unless I spell it out (or am found on the kitchen floor wailing), she's pretty much oblivious. And that actually works rather well for me.
Still love her. No longer "in love" with her. She's precious to me. But more as a relative that I care about. A close and precious friend. I want her to be well.
Post a Comment