If I had to describe my life in two words I'd have no trouble finding them. Soap Opera. My life is literally like a soap opera. Very few days anymore are calm, something crazy is always going on. Like now for example. The love of my life decided yet again to act first and think later, leaving me alone, yet again, seeking revenge because I pissed in his Cheerios. And now, just like before, and before that, somehow he managed to get himself in a pickle and is unable to get away from the duck looking hoe he chose this time. I'm sure the only thing you're wondering is why I put up with such craziness, allowing him back in my home and back in my bed. Well the answer for me is quite simple. Because I love him. And I'm hoping that one of these times when he returns home with his tail between his legs begging for me to take him back like now it'll finally sink in. That he's never gonna find anyone in this world that loves him more than me. For now though, I'm gonna have to be patient, tolerate him sneaking in and out of my slider and hope for the best. Wait out the storm and wait till he has enough guts to tell her that he wants to go home.
"Masking Mental Illness: Learning To Loose Those Masks And Love Myself, One Day At A Time."
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