I woke up in the middle of the night with a jolt – I had just had a dream that we had broken up. I had crashed earlier in the night without doing my usual
toilette, so my eyes were kinda stuck together with mascara and my breath, well, it was pretty bad. After
peeing (and throwing a little fit because there was no toilet paper and I had to resort to my hidden stash of pocket-sized tissue hidden in the
tampon box) and lying in bed for a bit going over the bizarre details of my dream, I realized that I wasn’t going to be able to fall back asleep without some
help. So I smoked a little, got back into bed, and then he came into the bedroom from the office where he had been doing work all night. He told me a bit about a new job opportunity he had found in DC, and I told him about my
dream. We laughed a bit and
joked around, and he tried to keep me from getting so worked up that I would not be able to
sleep. So I stopped my part of the joking around and tried to focus on
breathing to calm myself down. Then he commented on my breath: "It smells like marijuana and
ass." I apologized and turned my head the other way, too tired to get up and brush my teeth or even take a swig of
mouthwash. Then he asked, "Which would you rather do,
fuck a
cow or
lick your own ass?" Heavy sigh from me, then I asked, "How old are you?" Him: "0.5?" Me: silence. Him: "Which would you rather do, fuck a cow or lick your own ass?" Me: "Sshhh." Him: "Which would you rather do, fuck a cow or lick your own ass?" Me: "Fine, okay, lick my ass." Him: "
Ass-licker!" Me: "Okay, enough." Pause. Then him: "Which would you rather do, fuck a cow or fuck your mother?" Me: "Please stop." He asked again. I didn’t answer. Again, he asked. Again, no answer. One more time, the ridiculous question was posed. This time, I turned to face him and firmly explained that I wanted to go to sleep and I didn’t want to play this stupid game. I begged him to leave me alone and turned to face the wall. Him: "Which would you rather do, fuck a cow or fuck your mother?" Frustration welled up in me and manifested itself in the urge to
cry, and knowing he becomes very concerned when I do, I let it flow. I started to
sob into my pillow and screamed: "What is it going to take to get you to leave me alone? Why do I have to cry to get your attention?" He calmed me down and apologized and stroked my
hair, and then I fell asleep.
Which would you rather do? (Cow-fucker! Motherfucker!)