I keep aking myself that question. Why? Why do I continue making the same stupid mistake and expect to get different results?
You may wonder what I am talking about. I haven't really discussed my very tenuous reconciliation with "the estranged one." Perhaps I didn't discuss it because I knew that it was a stupid thing to do. I didn't want you to know how stupid I am. But I did it anyway. I knew my reason. It was quite simple. I wanted one thing, SEX! That is the one (and only) thing that was ever good between us. And so I got what I wanted. I then promptly explained to him that all our relationship could be was that. We don't get along well anywhere other than in bed, I told him. If we tried to make it any other way we'd just end up wanting to kill each other, I explained to him.
Most men would be happy with that, but not him. He cried. He told me we could work around our differences this time. He wanted my love and affection. Horny little fool that I am, I agreed to give it another try.
I must admit that it felt good to curl up in his arms at night. I liked waking up to find him next to me. I even went so far as to put my wedding ring back on. I was beginning to think that maybe this time would be different. I should have known better.
It all came crashing down today when my car broke down. We needed to find out why it was still overheating. The explaination he was offering was preposterous. I know a good bit about cars and I told him so. He refused to listen to what I was saying.
I took my car and said I wanted to see what exactly it was doing and asked him if he would be around to rescue me if it got too bad. He said that he would be.
I made it to Curves and back to my mom's house without it getting completely overheated, but I knew that the next time I started it I wouldn't be so lucky. It was running hotter every minute. So my dad and I decided to have a look at it. Once again we discovered that no coolant was getting to the engine, it was all going into the overflow, a sure sign of a bad hose somewhere. Sure enough, upon adding a bit of water to the radiator the hose gave way and all of the coolant poured out. I was relieved. At least I knew what was wrong with the car. I called to tell him so and that I needed a ride home since the car could not be driven in that condition. He did not answer. I waited a little longer and called back. He still did not answer. Finally I had my dad drive me home. Imagine my surprise to discover him there! I asked him why he did not answer his phone. I had called twice, I told him. He checked his phone. The battery was dead. How could he let his battery go dead when he knew I was out there in a car that was ready to break down? How could he come to help me if he wasn't able to answer my calls? I asked him. This started one of our many knock down, drag out, it's like beating your head against a wall arguments. It ended with him walking out of the door and me screaming that this time I really was going to file for divorce.
The funny thing is that he left me his car...
I will NEVER, if I live to be 100, figure that man out!
I need some prettiness to bring me a bit of joy...
Why couldn't I be married him?
Oh, I remember. It's name is Gabi...
I bet he never does shit like this to her...
