sphynx

I'm not normally much of one to post here twice in one day, hell, twice in a month is good for me sometimes, but this just warranted its own, special thing. I was feeling kind of bad for referring to someone I really do care about, despite my irritations with him, as the "King of Assholes" in my last post. In fact, with all the glorious timing that fate could drop on me, I was actually distracted by the though when I cut a chunk of my foot off in the bath tub while washing up shortly after posting it.

After further consideration, I will admit, I was wrong about him. He is not the King of Assholes. I'm thinking High God Emperor of Absolute Selfishness and Assholery fits a bit better. While I lay in the tub, unable to really get out, bleeding rather profusely (open wound + warm water makes for a good way to bleed to death), I had to yell until I was finally loud enough to alert my husband, on the other side of the house, with three closed doors between us and he likely had his headphones on. The now (if there was any doubt left) very EX-boyfriend/roomie was one room over from me. He went back to his room when he heard me yell for help. I could hear him walk off.

Now, I imagine that if you've read this so far, you're thinking "something is missing here, no one is that fucking cold." If you're not, let me assure you, I sure as hell am. So let me just add that I am not one to cry wolf or anything like that. I have a fairly high tolerance for pain and, while I might yelp once in surprise if I hurt myself, I'll never yell for help unless I have a legitimate reason. That just leaves (as far as reasons I can think of) that he just didn't hear me, but almost the second the hubby left for work this evening in comes Mr. Asshole, ignoring the fact that the door is shut, to ask "So what was going on earlier? When you were yelling?"

It's an interesting feeling, still sort of loving someone, but simultaneously hoping you never see nor hear from them again..