Why is it that I can wash clothes for 3 other people and I know what goes where and what goes in the dryer and what air dries? Why do I have to go behind the mister to make sure he isn’t drying something that is suppose to air dry(usually MY stuff)? Why is it I’m not allowed to say anything about his half asses laundry job because I truly believe he does this shit on purpose so I’ll say something and he’ll get out of doing his fair share because I’m bitching about how he’s doing it? Why do I feel like I’m getting the short end of the stick?
Why am I still on coochie strike?
Why does he say stupid shit like “I can’t get credit for doing laundry?” followed by “I have to fold it too?” Why did I want to say “listen you sorry mutherfuckah I been doing this shit for months now and you would just walk by all my hard work without even thinking about folding one piece laundry so fuck you?” Why not once did I ask for pat on the back for doing what needed to be done? Why does he feel he’s so special and needs a kudos for washing clothes when he hasn’t done it consistantly ALL year?
Why do I feel I am married to a total tittay baby?
Why did I chose to sleep instead of having sex this morning? Why am I masturbating to relieve the built up sexual need? Why I don’t even want a twenty or a third? Why men are just more trouble then they are worth right now? Why I miss feeling like someone’s heart was full just for me? Why that thought just made tears come to my eyes? Why I miss having my own heart full for someone? Why my heart doesn’t skip a beat the way it used to when he walks into the room? Why did I still feel that way until about 17mths ago? Why it seems that the heart is fickle and love don’t last? Why I hate him so much right now?
Why I hope this isn’t the beginning of the end? Why it probably ended for me in April of ’08?
Why I feel like love don’t live here anymore most days? Why I’m a coward and can’t just tell him it’s over? Why can’t I set him free so he can be a good man for someone else? Why I feel like I still haven’t met the love of my life? Why I think the love of my life wouldn’t hurt me the way I’ve been hurt? Why I feel like when I meet the love of my life (if I ever do) I won’t hurt him the way the mister has been hurt but he just doesn’t know it yet?