The first conversation of the day, our first conversation, every day, breaks me.
Your mood. You’re sleep deprived. You’re angry. You’re busy. You’re selfish. You’re whatever. All of it, rips through me.
I’m a mess. I’m dealing with shit. Constantly betrayed. Used. Abused. I don’t have any real friends, and you know it. I know this cuz you throw it in my face every now and then. I’m grieving. I’m a mess. I’m depressed. I’m in need.
Nothing is ever good enough. Nothing ever gets your attention, enough to put in the work.
Work. Work. Work. For fucks sake. This takes work. But it’s limited. You know this. You don’t care. Selfish. You take and take and take. I keep giving. I know I should stop. I keep giving. You keep taking.
I have nothing left to give. What would be the point anyway? It’s not enough. Nothing I do is enough. You want more. You want something different.
You want obedience. A little girl who will sit silently and nod at your every word. Pathetic. That’s not me. It never will be.
Deal with it.
Work. It takes work. Real work. Not that pathetic part time shit that’s been thrown at me the past year by you. Seriously. Three years down the road and now you pull away and destroy everything? Now you want freedom, that stench of new pussy got you running. Really? That’s all it takes to get you running.
Whatever it is, whatever you want, it isn’t me. But you say it is. You swear it is. You get your shit together for a conversation then it’s back to square one the next day, the first conversation we have of that day, every day, it breaks me.
This never ending cycle of heartache. This abuse. This insanity.
Be in this completely, or be out. Just be man enough to tell me.
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