I don't know how to feel about that. I just keep thinking of all those things he did -- the things he used when he did them -- and I feel sick. I feel like he's tainted our house. I can't use the turkey baster now, for instance. I'm down to about three pairs of socks which I've had to hide under the mattress. I've thrown away six packets of dental floss. There is only one chair in the living room that I still feel comfortable sitting on.
I still love him, of course, but I feel so sad too. I feel like our relationship can't continue if he carries on this way.
Wait a minute, did you just say he was dead?
1 comment:
A minute is a unit of measurement of time or of angle.
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