My best friend told the police I beat her. They came to confiscate my guns. I loved her. I took care of her when she fell in the parking lot of the East street coffee shop and broke her wrist. I told them I had a BB gun. They left papers which she wrote and signed that I threw her down the stairs. She left in the Chevy Cruize I had co-signed a loan on. It took three months , lots of money and a Good Lawyer to rectify the situation. I loved her.
In a good mood, I gave Nurse Mary the thumbs up. She got a mean look on her face and gave me the finger. Dewayne in the chair next to me saw this and told me she was signaling that I was number one. This is the third finger she has given me. She once told me she was on her third divorce. That all men are assholes.
I’m still going to keep a positive outlook on this. I think she may want me. I lost over two pounds last month and this is going to spur me on to perfect my body. When she finally succumbs to my charms, she will be impressed.
I’m in the doghouse again.
I have wounded my best friend.
I will have to be charming
to hold her hand again.
Maybe some flowers or money,
whatever it takes to get back my honey.
Life is too short, I fear:
come back to me, my dear.
She is Irish, a beauty with red hair. I say, “You are the prettiest flower in this garden,” as I look around the clinic with 20 more women milling about.
“Thank you, that was nice.”
Last week she told me that she was going through a nasty separation. I think she might be rich. I have a girlfriend, but I always keep my options open. I am not the man I once was, but I am as good once as I ever was.
We are not yet married but she has already assumed the role of one who must be obeyed. I cringe when she talks of pain in her back and my world spirals down like a Netflix horror movie. As we lie in bed, the sheets move and bad smells happen. She does sometimes say excuse me in a creepy voice.
We speak. She says, “the dog is peeing on the coat you left on the floor. You are a slob.”
We are looking forward to marriage.
I do love you, I know I’m not that great at showing it sometimes.
—–> If you love me, why did you run over my lilies with the tractor? Why did you make a giant pile of leaves in the middle of the back yard? I told you not to.
I’m sorry. I have apologized ten times. Those were awful mistakes I made. One bad turn with the tractor and two lilies got smashed in an instant. There was no place else to put the leaves. Two dreadful mistakes which happened two months ago. You need to forgive and forget. I am not perfect. You are very important to me. Please don’t leave. I need you.
Life can be challenging. My doctor told me I have something called GERD. I must stop drinking alcohol. Fried foods and chocolate are a no-no. These were my favorite things in the world next to marijuana. I told this to my girlfriend. I think she blocks out most of what I say–she suggested we go get a drink. I tell myself one bourbon won’t hurt. The fried cheese balls she orders are only inches from my reach. I eat a few. On the way home she breaks off a corner of a Hershey bar and says, “go ahead it’s only a little piece.” Later the burping brings acid from my stomach into my esophagus. The heartburn pain is unbearable. Tums don’t work at all. I have learned my lesson. No more alcohol, chocolate or Fried foods. Most important avoid my girlfriend whenever possible or suffer in pain and agony…