I’m about to head off to bed. It’s late (more correctly, it’s early) and I should have been sleeping hours ago. My ex is on my mind… good old X.
I went on a bit of a coughing jag a few minutes ago. That’s what reminded me of him. Flash back… 1991-ish. I was a young mother, and I was sick. Very very sick. I had pneumonia. I was in bad shape.
Did he bring me hot soup? Ah, nope. Cold compresses? Negative. Take care of stuff around the house so I could get rest? Um, not so much.
What he did was fuck me… a lot… because he said…
wait for it…
wait for it….
Yes, kiddies, just one of the many reasons that wawbat is no longer Mrs. X.
Now that I’ve exorcised that memory… I’m off to dreamland.