2000-07-15 - 22:25:00
I just love (not) when my boyfriend takes my car and tells me he has to go "get something" and I don't hear from him until midnight which is six hours fucking later. It just thrills me to get an explanation that he ran out of gas. Wow, for six hours. And then, it's such a kick when he says he's going to come right home from someone's house that I've never fucking heard of and instead two hours later, I call his cell phone which just absolutely delights me when he doesn't answer it while I'm sitting here 9 months pregnant. I am absolutely overjoyed when he tells me he has been at some bar for the past two hours and that he's had "a couple beers" which is a description that will change as the night wears on and well into the next day. It's never really just "a couple of beers." It's actually a few beers, some weird cocktail that he wants me to try one day, a line of coke, some Xanax, and lots of pot. It's such a gas when he tells me he's on his way home, while driving my car with just "a couple beers" in his system and he knows he won't get pulled over cuz, he's cruise-controlling it at just 50 mph. And, I love when he finally gets home and wants me to stay up and hang out with him. I love when he takes almost all of the rest of his Xanax and sits there trying to talk to me and tell me my good qualities and asking me if I still love him. I love when he has the buttfucking nerve to compare his going out to my times when I go out (which is hardly ever, and it's never a surprise at when I come home, cuz I always fucking explain just exactly what I will be doing--unlike him:)). And, I love when he then tells me all the things that are really in his system and that he'll be right back cuz he has to go back out to buy some cigarettes cuz he forgot and he really needs them. It's great when he comes back and keeps blowing various smoke in my face and offering me his joints even though I don't do any of that while I'm pregnant, especially 9 months, and when I finally get up and go back into the house, he takes it personally. Then, it's so neat when he sits down in the rocking chair on the porch, and when I'm standing there deciding whether to remind him that he still has to work the next day, he slowly passes out right before my eyes, drops his joint, leans his head back, and starts snoring. I just really love that kind of thing. I also love just turning off the porch light and leaving his ass like that, cuz, hey, out there, he can't pee or puke in the bed. I also love when the whole next day he is sleeping while his beloved friends and co-workers are calling wondering where the fuck he is and why he's not awake and why the hell I can't wake him up so he can speak to them. And I love when I'm cooking dinner and I look at the clock and it says seven in the p.m. and he still hasn't stayed awake all motherfucking day for more than two minutes. I just love the purpose I feel that I have in this relationship. I just love Xanax addictions, among other addictions. And, did I mention that I just love how I NEVER FUCKING get to take naps, even though I have lovely insomnia all night till usually 3 am or later in the morning, and how as a pregnant woman I could just pass out on the spot, but, no, I have to continue on and make food for my children, and when they get too loud, I just LOVE when he rolls over to the 2 yr. old and tells her to go wake up mommy, who is standing their in a lovely blinding fury in the kitchen. "I am fucking awake. I don't get to fucking take naps," I say and smile. Because, I just love dysfunction.
