Do We All Miss The Craziness? Gluttons for Punishment
I do admit that I miss the New-Ex now and then. I see a woman who looks a little like her and I remember how nice it was to hold her body next to mine on the couch and just doze, or to cuddle up in bed and snog, or her laughter when we were watching a silly movie or tv show. I remember the wonderful meals we would make or celebrations we would go to, and we would stroke one another's hands and it was lovely.
But for every one of these clear, lovely memories there is one of rage, which only she could bring out in me. It might come from a nasty word, or a complaint or a scathing comment, but it was there, like daggers ready to cut and wound.
And it's funny how relationships can be like that: so full of love and passion, and even some friendship, but tempered by the anger and fear and disgust. How it woke me up in the middle of the night and erupted in a purge, where I had to take everything she owned and either destroy it or stuff it into a sack, a cathartic release. The End