Even the ice cream man can’t save my marriage.
No really. Last week, we were arguing. Duh. This happens at Casa Christel quite frequently. I was sitting on the back patio, while he was yelling at me from the kitchen…
Me: “Stop freaking yelling at me!”
BF: “I’M NOT YELLING AT YOU!”
Cue ice cream truck song…….
Me: *feigns running out into traffic*
It’s funny how sometimes, the simplest things diffuse a volatile situation.
And other times, even the ice cream man can’t save you.
Just to clarify, I started this post on Friday.
Saturday was fucked. Sorry for the swearing mi familia, but there are no right words to express how utterly wrong I have been and continue to be in regards to my relationship.
You know how you can see everyone else’s problems clearly, and yet when you try to apply the same methods to your own existence, it all seems horribly one-dimensional?
Um…yeah. It’s like that.
The most disappointing part for me, is that I DID SEE IT!
I just didn’t want to. I kept hoping. I kept fixing. I kept thinking things would and could change.
*banging head into wall repeatedly*
Hey…I’ve got a hard head?!
And a big heart…both of which get me into trouble. A lot.
So, I will start over again. Because life is a gamble. And you just never know.
And on that extremely depressing note, I need to call my parents. BEFORE they read this.
Special shout-out to Blainey and Lenny. Thank you both so much for all the love and support you’ve given me. I couldn’t do this without them. Literally. They’ve both been watching this downward spiral for years, and still manage to love me, even if I’m often a blind fool.
And my phone is blowing the eff up with BF calls…this is why I turn the damned thing off sometimes.
I’ll try to be funnier next post. Promise.