“Make no bones about it! I’m not giving up so easily!” shouted Mr. D.
“And I’m not going to give in so easily!” I screamed back, “I hate you!”
And so we stand, facing-off each other. Actually, it’s more like I am crouching in a corner of my room, hugging my knees, willing Mr. D to disappear.
But I know he won’t. Disappear. Because life doesn’t happen like that. Things don’t just disappear. The day I let Mr. D into my life, I let him in for the long haul.
Like a lot of things we inadvertently let seep into our lives. Just that one more hour watching the TV. Just that couple more hours at work. Just let me sleep a little more. Just that other proposal to write. Just another drink. Just one more day or week or month or year given in to something we cannot name.
And we cope, in good ways or in bad ways.
“No, don’t close the closet door,” I whimpered, “we need to face the skeletons in there sooner or later.”
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