Strange Bedfellows

December 3, 2005

Berkeley, California

I'm so depressed, I can hardly bring myself to describe the horrible week I had, but I'll try.

For months I've had a feeling something was not right in our relationship. At first it was little things like his not paying attention to me when I spoke or not joining me at protests like he used to. Then his personal habits changed. He started showering more often and even wearing cologne, something he had never done. Instead of his old sandals he began wearing Hush Puppies and even bought himself a belt. Then came the nice clothes, the haircut, and regular shaving. Something was definitely up.

Things went from bad to worse when, after making macrame candle holders at home for thirty years, he suddenly went out and got a real job because he said he needed to get out of the house. Almost immediately, he started coming home late, claiming he had been "catching up on work". He began going out all the time and was no longer interested in sitting around smoking pot or listening to Grateful Dead albums with me. He even started drinking martinis, something he obviously picked up from his new "friends."

Our life together further deteriorated as our intimate moments became fewer and fewer. For the first time ever, he expressed displeasure with my braided underarm hair and unshaven legs, things he had always found sexy.  He complained about my musk perfume and found fault with my hemp clothes. It seemed I couldn't do anything to please him.

I was losing him and decided I wasn't going to sit around doing nothing while someone stole my life partner, I had to do something. As much as I hated to spy on him, I started going through his things.

Last night I went out and searched his car while he was showering and what I found under the passenger seat shattered my world to its very foundation! With tears in my eyes I angrily confronted him with the evidence of his unfaithfulness. At first he couldn't even speak, he just stared at the floor, not wanting to look at what I held out in my shaking hands. After what seemed like an eternity, he finally broke down, and sobbing uncontrollably, finally confessed the truth: Not only was the Ann Coulter book his, he had become a *choke* *gasp* REPUBLICAN! When he admitted he had voted for George Bush in the last election, I passed out and fell face-first into the catbox and nearly suffocated.

Do you know what it feels like to have your heart ripped from your chest? Do you know what it is like to cry until you have no more tears? Do you know what it's like to have thirty years of your life destroyed in a moment?

I do.

I go see the attorney tomorrow.

 

Comments

[Ferdinand T. Cat]

See, this is why cats have the Three Minute Rule (http://www.conservativecat.com/mt/archives/2004/12/121004_the_thre.html).

In the meantime, remember that you will always have Cindy.

[Jay]

Never let any man make you shave that beautiful braid. :)

[Violence Worker]

Oh peace! How awful for you! Would an intervention help? Perpaps you might try placing a patchouli scented copy of "On the Justice of Roosting Chickens : Consequences of American Conquest and Carnage" by comrade Churchill next to his pillow along with a blunt wrapped in flower printed paper (organic inks only).

But hey, if the guy has to go, I'll bet we could make some sweet protest music together!

VW