I can't stand the life I've had to take on from him.
Before it seemed harmless, but now everyday I feel his mother encroaching on me like a plague.
Every time she gets us something she buys the on on special for about 10 bucks less than a brand new one because its refurbished and mostly fucked up. Then she gives it to us and makes us put up with its bullshit when I could have much more easily bought the same thing myself and had it be one I wanted which had the added bonus of working.
Take last christmas. They got us a dishwasher. Isn't that kind? Of course it is. Except with her exceptional shopping sense she got one that contained parts that disinigrated after 3 months. On top of the 3 months it took to get it put in because his family who were certainly going to have it in by new years rolled around to doing it some time in feburary.
So now we face a new christmas and this time she wants to buy us a couch. I love my couch. I know its falling apart, I know its old, i know i'll have to give it up one day. But its big enough for two fat people to lay down side by side, and its fluffy stuffed full, and it is MINE. Plus I know she'll pick out the scrawniest granny couch that makes me feel like I *should* keep the plastic on the outside.
This all used to be much easier under the guise of love. With this new emptyness it feels like a play I can no longer take part in. Its just too much work to untangle my life. And I'm sure i'd regret it anyway. I just dont know. Some days I feel like I'll regret doing nothing more, but others I imagine running away and getting a small apartment in Amsterdam and never coming back.
I know I won't do that though...and it ruins the dream.
