LJ Idol Week 5: "Building a Better Mousetrap"
It was 2010 when I wore my heart on my sleeve and the man of my dreams blew his nose on it.
I could not admit that he and I needed to split. When he started acting shady and calling every female “pretty lady” I made him dinner; Chicken Cordon Bleu and dessert too.
When he stopped touching me in bed I tried to take it to the shower and that is when he turned real sour, calling me an oversexed freak. I took his critique and backed off a bit. That was when he’d chat all night on the internet and every blonde, redhead, and brunette suddenly became a threat.
I finally started to question it to which he replied I was a psychotic bitch. I became obsessive, depressive, and compulsive. He called me repulsive.
We broke up. I broke down. We made up. Then we made it back down.
I said “I’m sorry.” He said he loved me. We were still abstinent, he was still dispassionate, and I felt inadequate. I checked his e-mail and instant messages, confirmed his lies which were getting outlandish. He found out and called me psychotic bitch. I stayed obsessive, depressive, and compulsive. I believed I was repulsive.
We broke up. I broke down. We made up. Then we made it back down.
A “pretty lady” gave him a blow job on the side of the road. When I found out I decided to change my zip code. At first it sucked, but I had to buck the yuck and pack all my stuff. In a note I wrote that I couldn’t live this way anymore. I left his key and closed his door.
We broke up. He broke down. We didn’t make up. I moved to an apartment downtown.
I could not admit that he and I needed to split. When he started acting shady and calling every female “pretty lady” I made him dinner; Chicken Cordon Bleu and dessert too.
When he stopped touching me in bed I tried to take it to the shower and that is when he turned real sour, calling me an oversexed freak. I took his critique and backed off a bit. That was when he’d chat all night on the internet and every blonde, redhead, and brunette suddenly became a threat.
I finally started to question it to which he replied I was a psychotic bitch. I became obsessive, depressive, and compulsive. He called me repulsive.
We broke up. I broke down. We made up. Then we made it back down.
I said “I’m sorry.” He said he loved me. We were still abstinent, he was still dispassionate, and I felt inadequate. I checked his e-mail and instant messages, confirmed his lies which were getting outlandish. He found out and called me psychotic bitch. I stayed obsessive, depressive, and compulsive. I believed I was repulsive.
We broke up. I broke down. We made up. Then we made it back down.
A “pretty lady” gave him a blow job on the side of the road. When I found out I decided to change my zip code. At first it sucked, but I had to buck the yuck and pack all my stuff. In a note I wrote that I couldn’t live this way anymore. I left his key and closed his door.
We broke up. He broke down. We didn’t make up. I moved to an apartment downtown.