Two years. 730 days. At a minimum.
Am I supposed to start marking X's on the wall for every day that goes by? What side of fucking Christmas are we on? And which Christmas? Now what?
I am so angry with you.
Happy now?
Just following procedure, ma'am.
Did you think about the fallout these bombs would create when you dropped them this time? Or did you think, "eh it's only Barbie, easy come, easy go."?
Was this all part of your game plan? Your strategy? Stake your flag in my heart, nurture the dependence, the reliance and the 'joy' I felt every day with you. And then walk away. Telling me it's your plan to come back for me. Put me through this god-awful pain, to see if I have what it takes to be with you? To test my "combat-readiness"?
Oh but you're setting me free, that's right. Putting me back in the wild, returning me to my tribe.
I was free before. I was freely loving you. Freely choosing to be with you. Freely waiting with you for our time. Freely figuring out which journeys our paths would take till they converged. But now, because you are judge and jury in this relationship, I have been sentenced to this torture. Waterboarding begins at 2.
Gave me steak. Left me with bread and water.
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