happiness, love

The man of my dreams, my Greg

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I finally stopped emotionally reacting every time I drove past the billboard with his face. His ads are on both sides of this damn board, just a few blocks away from my work.
His photo kept reminding me of him early in the morning on my way to the office, and later in the afternoon, when I drove home.   
 
I let go of all my expectations, frustrations, and illusions, and, again, Greg showed up out of nowhere at 4 in the morning banging loudly on my door. His car in front, he did not even bother to park it right. I had to open the door fearing that the neighbors would call the corps.
 
          Isn’t it too early?
 –          I am here for sex and breakfast
 
No comment.  Speechless. He is mentally sick. I am definitely under his influence.
 
           Greg, do you know what time is it?
          Did I do something wrong, gorgeous? 
 
I gave him an apple, he laughed in my face, he wanted ham and scrambled eggs, and I am vegan.
I did not want to allow him into my apartment just because I do not bend. This is my life principle – never bend even if I am willing to give in to the point of fainting. Every time he comes into my life I feel I am a powerless nothing, and this feeling is amazing. My 85 pounds against his 180. My cheap shoes and undies against his hysterical wealth.   
 
How come that such an awesome person is so insane? I can see far beyond his craziness, but he is not willing to interact outside his erection.   
 
He was standing next to me chewing the apple, holding the door with his knee.  I can’t close this damn door, he does not allow me to slam it in his face, I love it, this is awesome.
 
I went into the bedroom, slid under the blanket and closed my eyes, still had a couple of hours prior to starting a new work day, feeling with my skin his presence here. I heard him go into the kitchen 
 and open the refrigerator.
 
          Honey, don’t you have regular milk? I can’t drink your almond shit
 
It was surprisingly easy not to respond and let the sleep take over. I do not care any more, Greg is a dickhead, hope he will lock the door when he leaves.
 
My alarm clock went off at 8. The front door was still open, my kitchen was a mess, the most wonderful man in the world was still here snoring in the living room. He was back in my reality. I went into the bathroom. I felt happy.  

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