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You
don't want to think about that...he didn't want to think about it at
all..I don't want to think about it at all. I am trying hard at not
narrating myself...it's my way of getting through life...it's my
defense mechanism. It detaches me from reality. I can't help it. It's
a habit. At least I acknowledge that much...that I do these
things. I wonder if anyone else does... I wonder if crazy people know
thy are crazy...I wonder if anyone who was president or PM or
something... I wonder if they have funny thoughts like me.
The
Church
S**t, 299 lights left. I should be gathering the
courage to tell her I am dumping her a*s and leaving. Wait a second,
why the hell am I leaving..it's my damn house and my car and my
everything else. I have to kick her a*s to the curb.
Courage
was building, the car was speeding up. I'll man up by the time
we hit the cemetery. Yes, that will be the mark, the cemetery. I can
do this, I can do this. She is nothing but f*****g
trouble. trouble trouble trouble. She f***s other guys,
gets fucked up, and takes out her aggression on me. F**k this, the
end is near! The end is here! Fires of hell will rain down from the
sky on her. The plagues of Egypt will not compare to the f*****g
hammer of s**t-storms I will slam down on her c**t-face.
The
cemetery was just ahead. Jeez those last lights went by
fast
"Why are you driving so fast?"
"..."
"You're
speeding"
"...I want you out of the
house."
"What!?"
"Look after what happened
back there, I've had enough. You're nothing but trouble."
"You're
breaking up with me?"
"Yes."
She started
slapping him and punching him in the face. All he could do was
scream...this wasn't the first time she got physical with him. In
fact, it was probably something closer to the 1,000th time. The last
time was less than an hour ago at the bar. He should have never gone
to the bar. His body was still sore from that incident. Now here he
was getting another beating...while he was trying to drive.
"It's
another woman isn't it? you found someone else? You cheating
b*****d!"
He wasn't going to yell stop. She was too coked
up amongst other things to realize what she was doing. His pity
had run out though, no more. To hell with this s**t-storm of a
situation.
He wasn't sure if he could have regained control
of the car, maybe he could have but didn't want to. Or maybe if he
tried hard enough he could make sure the two get home alive.
F**k
it, its hopeless. What did he have? In short, not much. Oh well, I
guess that's the way life goes.
It was too late to change his
mind now. The car managed to take out the last light on the trail
before coming to a complete stop. His head was against the steering
wheel, with the dash lights shining brightly in his eyes. All he
could hear was the radio...