Punching Bag

Last weekend was a nice weekend. Despite the fact I was sick as hell. I spent half the day in my own bathroom. But for him I dragged myself out of the house. For him I put on my best face. I put on a smile.

We went to see his mom. She’s doing ok. She hasn’t seen me in months. We talked and things were good. We stayed about an hour. We said goodbye. We went to have dinner. Her asked me to spend the night. I never have. He had asked me before but I couldn’t because I had to be somewhere early the next morning. I said yes even though I had nothing to sleep in.

We came to his place. He got some things ready for dinner. I was feeling sick so I laid in bed. I helped him here and there and laid down some more. He played a movie. I fell asleep while he played the play station. He crawled in bed at 3:30am. It’s been a long time since we slept together. I turned towards him but I didn’t draw myself to him. I slept, better than I have had in months. I could feel his breathing I could sense him there. Even in my sleep I just kept to myself.

I woke up first. I looked at him, woke him up. He told me it was the best sleep he had in a long time. I knew though with me there he would sleep. A sense of security. A sense someone is there. We laughed and got ready. Day seemed perfect..

Monday rolled around. Quiet. No word from him. This only meant one thing. I felt sad inside. I just kept doing my thing but it bothered me. Tuesday came oh there he goes. He needs me. I told him I couldn’t be there, I had a doctor appointment. Family comes first he said. That was all I would hear from him. A few words Wednesday and nothing. Now I’m getting angry. I’ve done so much and I’m getting repaid so shitty. I ask what’s going on? He says PMS. I said you or me. He goes himself..

So the weekend rolls around. To me I think he needs to get out of his job. It’s not what he wants anymore but that’s my opinion. So I stay quiet. But work seems to bring out anger in him. Saturday rolls around. I’m on Instagram and yes I posted a picture about feeling used. He goes I’m using you now? Yea well you are only when you’re in a good mood.

So I finally hear from him. Grief stricken he uses alcohol as coping. So yea every other week I’m his punching bag. He lets his anger out. To the point it’s not going to end well for either of us. Alcohol isn’t the answer. Maybe I’m not either. Walk Away. Walk away. How much more can I take.

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