covid

 All last week Mike and I were both down with covid 4 the second time. We're pretty sure we got it from his son who got it from his sister because they ran around Leavenworth when she knew she was infected but that's beside the point. This time around covid hurts a lot more than it did the first time and we have both been coughing, coughing up stuff, runny nose sore throat so tired body aches, it's like having the flu times 10. Well yesterday was Monday January 31st and Mike went back to work. He didn't have to have a covid test to prove he was negative because at this point nobody in the world cares but he could not come back to work if you had a fever. He went in late because he woke up with a fever, and waited until the fever went down. I laid in bed watching my computer because again like I said everything hurts and depression is starting to kick in. I sadly assumed once Mike went back to work he would call me to see how I was doing. I was wrong. Not only did I not get any text or phone call saying how are you or I hope you're doing okay, like a normal supportive boyfriend would do, he called me one time to find out if I had the paper that his boss needed. Not my responsibility to keep your paperwork dude! Then he went to the bar for four and a half hours. Again, no negative covid test still had a temperature when you woke up this morning but then again alcoholics will be f****** losers. When he got home I was halfway asleep so he'd hit his stupid ass trick of scraping his fingernails across the wall to make sure I'm awake and then standing in my door whining and crying because his gut hurts and his heart is skipping and it hurts him to breathe. F*** you you idiot. Nobody told you to go to the bar, nobody even told you to go to work! But Your Love of Money just ruined this relationship. I don't even want to see your face little oh no that you were ever part of my life. I hope your mom calls me when you finally do die otherwise I'll never know.

3 kisses

 I'm hurt and I've been sitting on it too long. Last week on Friday the 13th, Mike was in a really good mood. He came right home so he was sober and when he walked in, he walked over and kissed me! He hasn't kissed me in months so I was surprised! In fact, about an hour later we passed each other in the hallway and I said I want another one! And he gave me two more! :-) I was flying! It was a great night, we watched movies, always good. :-) until monday. He had gotten a package from Amazon and when he came into my room to get it I joked that there was a finder's fee. And he said I already gave you three this month. What!!? I'm on a quota? Three kisses in a month? That's it? Aziz did better. Hell, Matt did better! Apparently if I want the smallest of affection I must leave. Fuck, I was just starting to like him again. Why must I miss what does not want me? What ignores me, does not love me, does not respect me want someone else? Why am I letting you rent space in my head? What can I do to avoid this bizarrness in my life? Get out! I've tried to leave only to be pulled back so many times and finally I'm free and yet..

Happy birthday, yet again

 You weren't here. For two weeks we have laughed, talked, mild, I missed you so much and worried when I didn't hear from you. I picked you up Friday so excited you were home! And that was that. I sat on the end of your bed to spend a little time with you but you kept putting your feet in my lap. The only thing you missed was my foot rubs. I should be honored but I was hurt. You didn't ask about me, not once. I knew you were tired and I figured we'd spend Saturday together, maybe visit your mom? No, you went alone. The only person that excludes me from your family is you, the one who should be including me. And after you give your mom her gift which was my idea, you selfish prick, you came home, dressed up, and went to the bar. You are only back home for 13 hours! I shouldn't be surprised, I'm actually surprised you didn't just have me drop you off the night before.

After you left, everything came crashing back. Missing you and loving you are not the same thing. You got back from the bar 7 hours later and I could hear you stomping and banging around so I stayed in my room. I had my door closed because I was burning incense. You open the door and said something about shutting me out after all this and went away. About a half an hour later you closed your bedroom door. Well that'll teach me! Go back to New york.

 Each night I go in and I sit at the feet of Mike's bed and I listen for him in case he stops breathing. On the 17th he pulled me down onto the bed and asked if he could have a quickie. I said no and struggled to get up and he held me down. Nothing happened, and I wasn't going to go back in there for a while because I don't feel safe. On the 18th of February like an idiot that I am, I went back in and sat at the foot of his bed because he got his CPAP machine and I wanted to make sure it didn't choke him or he didn't stop breathing except he didn't have the correct water so he didn't put it on. Instead he told me his dick was hard and could he f******. Me. I just sat at the edge of the bed crying because this is not what I want in a relationship and I have told him. He knows how much sex hurts and the problem is he likes it when it hurts. I knew that I wasn't going to get out of his room without giving in so I just bent over the bed and turned my body off. I can't stand this man who treats me with such disrespect and I can't wait for King County Housing to come forward and give me a place to live so I feel safe and I feel happy. This is not a true man this is not a man that treats women this way. How would he feel if someone talked to his mother or his daughters this way? And yet it's okay to talk to me this way?? When I say no he gets all angry and throws a hissy fit fine, I won't ask you anymore and yet two or three days later he's telling me we're going to have sex, why don't you want to f***? Because I don't have meaningless sex and I don't want you in my life. Can't stand you don't love you told you this many times get your skunk ass garlic onion vodka breath away from me! The worst part of it is? Today's our 13th year anniversary and I would rather slit my wrists then let this man touch me. I know I'm going to have to let him "finish the job" because we didn't get to last night. Because when I lay there like a log he doesn't understand oh she's not liking this oh, maybe I should stop. No, he gets angry because his dick goes soft and there's nothing he can do about it because he's an alcoholic. I wish I had somebody I could talk to.

We knew it was coming

 We lost grandma Kitty about a week ago.  

We knew it was coming but it still hurts like a needle in the heart.  She fought,  but her body gave up- they're calling it dementia due to covid,  how that works I'll never know.  She was so depressed that nobody came to visit in the hospital, not realizing she couldn't have but 1 visitor per day.  My mom would go and spend all day but cousins would go for an hour or two and leave.  This left grandma alone and not allowed visitors the rest of the day.  I hope she gets to heaven and has a nice chat with Jesus over this shit.

Once she was at my mom's house,  she could have all the visitors she wanted but at that point dementia was full blown and she was mentally a6yr old child.  She wouldn't eat anything,  drink a sip or 2 of ensure and was calling my mom (Cindy) Ramona or Juanita. Aunt Juanita is the oldest sister,  passed on about 10 years ago,  and we have no clue who Ramona is.  Neither name sounds like Cindy.  

I started making phone calls,  my mom handled the hospice paperwork,  we were all on auto pilot. I was telling people grandma didn't want a big memorial,  plant a tree in her name,  if...IF we have a memorial I will absolutely call, text, facebook... somehow I'll let people know.  

During one of these phone calls,  nancy overheard and assumed I was telling people there WAS going to be a memorial,  and like the bitch she is,  went and tattled to my mom, who already had enough on her plate,  you fucking bleach bottle blond troll. I explained to my mom and we resumed our jobs so the troll could get gone.  

Once everyone was gone,  I stayed for a little while and we went over what had to be done,  who had to be told what,  and so forth.  Even though I had told mike she passed,  when I came home,  he was at the bar.  Super supportive boyfriend?  FML