I wouldn’t do well in prison, so I guess I won’t kill him

I’m very lucky in that I have one of those relationships that is more like I get to live with my absolute best friend in the world, and we get naked and sweaty and wiggle on each other a few times a week as well.

Despite all of that happiness though, sometimes we want to kill each other.

Usually, there’s a good reason when the murderous rage arises.  It’s usually some stern disagreement about a major issue, and we simply aren’t able to keep our cool while discussing it because we are so passionate about it.

Occasionally, there is an amount of alcohol involved that can not be quantified as the shot glasses just magically appeared to be full all night, and by the end of it we’re screaming at each other with no recollection of why.

And every once in a blue moon, there is no damn reason why we get angry.  But we do.  And we’re mad.

Today was one of those stupid not- angry –but- somehow –angry- and- still- being –stubborn- about- it days.

We got into a spat this morning about… I don’t even know.  When I went to leave for work I tried to kiss and make up, only to find myself bitching about him, and he at me for no apparent reason.  I don’t cry often, but found myself in tears as I drove to work, and couldn’t calm myself down for a spell once I got here.

My day in the office is quickly dissolving into a pile of shit and all I want to do is call him for thirty seconds to have my #1 fan tell me I’m awesome, but I’m too darn stubborn to do it because I think I’m supposed to still be angry.

Yes folks, I can hear the crazy in my post.  I understand that this is completely illogical behavior.  Man or woman, someone who processes information like this is destined for the loony bin sometime in the near future.

Good thing this crazy talk is the exception and not the rule.  I won’t be checking myself in anytime soon.  But I will probably be a brat and pout until I get a proper hug and kiss… and then it’ll be like it never happened.

Ah marriage.  Can’t live with ‘em…

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