Fucking....fuck.

Boyfriend comes home last night all sweet as piss and makes dinner AND dessert.

*fatgirlgasm*

I know it doesn't make up for the bullshit. But it sure as fuck makes it about 1,000 times easier to ignore said bullshit & keep pretending that everything's fine.

Here are recurring memories that make me doubt this relationship:

"WHEN YOU HAVE CHILDREN, YOU GIVE UP SLEEPING IN."
yelled at me for sleeping in one day, & obviously overlooking that his daughter also lives here, & that he was sleeping in every weekend.

"Maybe my Mom was right."
REALLY?!

The day he called me at work to bitch at me for "neglecting my womanly duties" while in the background I hear the sound of things breaking, explained to me as the dishes he was throwing away. THROWING AWAY. As opposed to just fucking washing them, throwing them away.

At one point early on I went xmas shopping for my children w/ my ex & lied to boyfriend about it because I knew how he'd react (all pissily.) He found out, guilt-tripped the fuck out of me, said if I didn't delete my ex from my (now non-existant) FB account that he would dump me. I did. He acted like everything was kosher. A few months later I found out that, since I had lied to him about "going out w/ (Ex)" he had asked an ex-gf for nudie pics. Which she sent. The kicker to all of this was that, the day the ex & I went shopping for the kids, was also the day I told him I was moving back in w/ boyfriend. It was also the day the ex threw his wedding ring out of the window of my (then) car on the interstate.

Once upon a time, I got pissed at boyfriend and threw his photo album of ancient smut across the room. He responded by putting me in a choke hold with his legs until I blacked out. He then wrecked the house & beat me up. Afterwards on the phone, his response was "I was well within my rights to defend my possessions." Later it was "I know people who say you should be dead for trying to destroy my things." His THINGS.

The most recent would have to be when he was badgering me incessantly about my infidelities & I asked him, cattily, if he wanted details. His response was to smack me in the face repeatedly, breaking my glasses & bruising my eye so badly that he took me out to buy makeup to cover it, my hair 1/2 in my face the entire time.

"You don't know what you want. You're just a scared little girl. You're a spineless shit."

Ah, amour.

Don't feel sorry for me. I keep coming back, although the last time was out of my control. I think I'll talk about that tomorrow. Maybe later. I have High Life.