All I ask for is CONSISTENCY. Not perfection and then a flop to bastardness (new word. Haha) Oh sure. They’re ALL perfect in the beginning. They open doors for the lady, pull her chair out, actually listen to what she’s saying, give her a hug after a bad day, hell, he even WANTED to give me a foot massage! He liked doing that.

And now, after the Ides of March have set in, he’s changed. Either changed or dropped the act, but that were three months of a damn good performance or was it a performance?

Suddenly he lost his job, had to work for a fast food restaurant, and became easily agitated. “Alright,” I said to myself (when no one was around), “So he’s cranky because he has to work in a humbling position. Thinks will get better soon.” So I hung in there, standing by him, enduring all the slings and arrows of outrageous bitching. And I will say it; He was an outright ASSHOLE to me, but I clung to the memories and hope. Believing it will soon get better …

Waiting …

Waiting …

Waiting (Damn! That hurt!) … Waiting …

(ouch! That was cruel!) … waiting …

And here I am. He now has his previous spoiled-rich-guy job back and makes about $75.00 an hour. Still, he’s an asshole. Oh not all the time … if he wants something from me he can be rather charming, like his old self. Maybe he was always a bastard. Albeit a sincere bastard who tried not to be a bastard and in the end just gave in to his bastardness and squeezed the shit out of the bastard bag. *sigh*. So I come to this. Stay with him, clinging to some hope that things will get better turn a blind eye to all his faults … actually that would be both eyes all the time. Hell, I might as well give up my driving privileges.

Or I could light his precious expensive car of fire and spray lighter fluid onto the walls in the words “Asshole” and set that to flames … maybe a less dramatic goodbye would be better.

My God! The infinite love I give to that man! I make him presents almost every day, love poems, I turn and give him a kiss out of the blue, try to cheer him up when he’s in his usual dark moods.

The plain truth is that he’s led a very spoiled life. He takes me for granted (Which is grounds for execution to women), and ignores me. Well, wallflowers can move on. And I need to get away for a while to clear my head. Love creates a fuzzy picture you know.

I wonder if he’ll even notice I’m gone.