Your Looks Are The Only Thing You Have Going For You. And Even Your Beauty Is Fading.

“Your looks are the only thing you have going for you.  And even your beauty is fading.”

The deal with meals.

Ten years ago he decided that I would make all the meals. Only he told me that I was the one that decided that.

When we first moved out we were still trying to figure out all of the things that young couples are trying to figure out: how to work out each other’s schedules,  keep the apartment clean, ensure we had enough to pay the bills, etc etc.  

There were days, when I was working late, that it just made sense for him to make dinner.  I had grown up learning how to prepare food - I wasn’t great at it at the time, but I was taught, and fully believe, that is this a life skill. So I learned.  

He did not. Rather than trying to figure it out ( I was fully prepared to eat food that had been burnt to shit during the learning process) he went for things that were easy.  This meant lots of frozen food that he could throw in the oven and be done with.  No veggies to be found.

I do not have a restrictive diet by any means, and I am in no way a total health nut. However, my body, and I will spare you the gory details, INFORMS me when I have been eating too many greasy, pre-packaged, fried, high sodium and high fat things. 

I tried mentioning this on a number of occasions and it always turned into a drag out fight. He didn’t believe me despite the physical symptoms that were visible.  His rationale?  He was eating the exact same thing with no symptoms of the sort.  I was just making it up to be a bitch and have something else to nag him about.  

My incredulity as a side - I can’t imagine being with someone and insisting on cooking food that makes them bleed.   

It came to a head one night where he had me on the floor crying.  I was an unreasonable bitch and I had made the decision right then and there.  Since I didn’t like his “cooking” I agreed to make all of the meals that we ever ate ever again.

It was an utterly ridiculous contract.  But it was one that he stuck to to the letter. I always had to leave social gatherings and other events, sometimes even work to ensure he was fed.  If I did not, he wouldn’t even make himself a sandwich until I got home.  He would starve himself or binge on chips in order to spite me.

And that hangry meme that circulated social media for a while?  Hilarious to some - a real and utter nightmare for me. There was hell to pay if there was no dinner on the table when he walked in.  Yeah.  That really is a reality still for some

To this day he has never learned to cook, which has been an immense problem for him since we are no longer together.  I’m sure he fancies himself an excellent culinary critic though - there was always a problem with what I made

The only good that came out of this is that with the training of the basics I received from my folks (and I am very grateful that they insisted I learn) and all the practice I’ve had over the years, I’m a fairly skilled cook and meal planner.  Most of the time I like it too, but it has also been a trigger. 

It’s hard when the things you love are tainted.

My humanity ebbing away.

"Can I have a hug?"

"What makes you think you deserve one?"

Last night’s text.  He goes from not messaging me for months to baiting me almost daily.  Thus far I have not responded.

Good days are bad too

Remember, not Reminisce

Today I’m feeling touch-starved, and it’s on these days that I miss him the most.

When I’m feeling emotional I try to remember rather than reminisce.  When we were together and I would reach out to him in bed in the morning or in the middle of the night, he would shrug me off angry that I woke him.

He rarely, if ever, cured my need for affection. So what is there to lament?