She’s crying – she’d been crying for hours.
Actually: two minutes.
“Just tell me why? I need to know why!”
Camel’s Back, meet Straw.
“You’re too fat… You’re too lazy… You’re too stupid… You cry about everything, goddamit…”
Right here… This is where the drip, drip, drip, becomes a torrent of irrational poison.
“When things get hard, you give up. When we’re supposed to be having fun, you’re moaning about how shitty your life is. You spend 10 minutes deciding if you want to have strawberries in your pancakes. You talk through my favorite movies.
Every. Single. Minute. I can’t stand you.”
I glare at her. She is stunned. Shocked. Awed.
She looks away, watching the rain trickle down the window.
“OK. We’re done.” – she says with calm finality.
Of course – those aren’t my reasons.
I really only have one: she’s always the victim, I’m always the bad guy – and I’m so tired of being the bad guy.
Sometimes… when you’ve been pigeonholed – the only thing left to do is be the pigeon.