Bitching
Monday, Jan. 27, 2003 11:26 pm
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I know that I do it. And still I continue. Its, like, ingrained, in me.

I've always been a whiner. A complainer. A crier. Its a wonder I had any friends at all in High school. Even more remarkable that anyone can stand to be with me for any length of time. And James has been here for almost 15 months. Wow. Before him, my longest relationship lasted, oh, about 5 months.

Barely.

And that was Jose. The jerk. He was a sleeze. What is called, I believe a 'player'. (lol) And I never saw it. I was this miserable lump of woman, just beginning to recover from a nervous breakdown. A single, welfare, mom with a tow-headed one year old baby. Feeling alone, abandoned, and worthless.

I let Hani down. My house was a mess. I'd gained 98 pounds and was a horrible, neglectful parent.

And then came this guy. Smooth. Interesting. Knew exactly what to say and when to say it. Didn't seem to mind that I was fat. Or on anti-depressants. He sweet talked me, and I took it. I believed he was the best thing that ever was going to happen to me... I can't even think about all that I let him put me through.

He cheated on me ALL the time.

Girls called my house.

And I put up with it.

He was violent, and mentally, and physically abusive.

And I put up with it. Took it and asked for more, please and thank you.

And, and, this is the kicker.... I cried when HE broke it off with ME...

Isn't that hysterical?

I can laugh about it now. Laugh and mourn for that poor misguided (stupid, stupid) girl.

So that was the longest relationship I ever had. From January to April of 1999.

And now I have, wonder of wonders. James.

What kind of luck is that? Yeah I ended my previous entry bitching about our little spat...

But he is very sweet. And supportive. And he loves me.

He doesn't care that I am fat. He says if I want to lose weight, he will help me. And if I don't want to, he loves me anyway. .

He squeezes me every chance he gets and kisses me for no reason in particular. .

He brings me flowers in bed and goes out in the windy, cold night to get me treats.

He has never screamed at me that I am too fat to eat and thrown my dinner away. Or gotten angry because something I cooked came out wrong and then threw the plate against a wall.

He's never ever ever hit me. Or even raised his hand.

He supports my poor attempt at a romance novel and says I am a good writer.

He is a good husband. I have everything to be happy about.

And, he thinks its amusing when I complain. Isn't that funny? He thinks it cute when I bitch.

Artwork © Jessica Galbreth