Sunday

Nabal, so freaky... always following me around begging for a hug or kiss and when I go the other direction he laughs and smacks me on the behind. Hate is to small a word. Today he asks if I'm going to church with him. I didn't even look up, said no. He asked me why. Why the hell do I have to explain myself at my age? I spoke the simple truth, "I don't want to." Then he asked, "What if I make you?" WTF? All I could do was laugh. He was not pleased. Good! Nabal's proclaimation of the day: It doesn't matter what you want. I'm never leaving you. Well, should I just give up now? No! It is what that kind of talk is for isn't it? Make any hope of escape seem impossible? Make any attempts to resist seem futile? May as well drink the kool aid because there is no way off the island? I have hope. A fine thread some days, but even a sliver with faith is preferable to sinking back into the fog of Nabal's world according to him. Funny, Nabal keeps repeating this line and he has a look. That look you give a child when they are throwing a temper tantrum. 'No matter how long you hold your breath it's not going to work.' knowing all along that they'll pass out and involuntarilly breath anyway... He's betting he can hold on longer than I can, and that I can't be successful enough to get away. I lived on my own when we met, so it's doable. He on the other hand had a boatload of roomates. I guess he's up to the same game he's been up to for 20 years, it's just that I can see it now for what it is.