Thursday

And now he's around singing his sad sack love songs. The ones drunks sing in Mexico.

Coming downstairs trying to do the hand and foot wait on thing. Coffee, another blanket, food. Can we eat lunch.

Then, can I have a hug? Can I have a kiss? Him leaning over to kiss my forehead because I can't move out of the way. My arm is up blocking him access. "Oh mama, but I love you!" Personal space, and not taking no for an answer. Should I take a shower? You just don't care about me anymore?

Analyzing this turn of crazy last night... Did he really assume his gratification would be immediate of ever? What grown up would ever expect such? I heard his boots hit the floor, he didn't sound pleased. He's going to use sugar, until he realizes I'm not giving in. Then I believe he'll turn mean. Big letdown for his immature brain.

He's up there singing away. Light hearted and gay...comes down all smiles and leaves downcast. Oh boy...bumpy bumpy ride.

Back down- So I can't come visit you? No. You just don't want me any more? I finally just put it back where it belongs- You've made it pretty clear you have your own life; so I've moved on with mine.

Nabal: So there's nothing we can do?
Me: No.
Nabal: Can we still go to lunch?
Me: Fine.

Did I make a mistake...? Our girl is accompanying, so maybe that'll offset it seeming like a 'date.' This is what I want, but it's darn scary.