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Josh is a perpetual optimist.  Everything is always really just fine and it’s going to be fine and it’s going to get better because it always gets better even if better only lasts an hour.  Me, on the other hand, am more likely to figure that life is shit and it’s always been shit so why should I ever expect that it’s going to be any better than shit all the time.

Not a good combination.

So, as per usual, everything is FINE, just ask him.  We had a particularly stilted conversation at lunch that went nowhere because we didn’t actually talk about the things we’d been texting about all morning.  I finally gave up and told him that I surrender – I will do or say anything he asks for but he’s going to have to ask for every fucking thing.

Guess what he asked for first?  Yup, sex.

So I get to paste on my fake smile and go home and do my best job at being a whore just to make him happy.  And then I have to cook him dinner – he asked for that, too.  After that I think I’m going to crawl under the covers with my book and hide the rest of the night.  I want no part of him or any of this but apparently I’m not allowed to even talk about divorce because divorce and shitting rainbows just do not go well together though I’m thinking they’d be simply lovely paired with a sweet red wine.

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