It’s tough being with him and it’s tough being without him.
You think that as you stand in the 7/11, fillin your pockets full of Twix bars and other name brand things.
When he’s there, he ruins things. Makes a mess. Knocks over displays, stands on the counter. The clerk always threatens to call the cops; she never does.
When you’re alone, its easier.
You grab what need, and go.
It seems “alone” is always the best option.
When he isn’t there, you’re stuck wishing he was. And when he is, you wish he was gone.
It’s a constant cycle of never being fully sure what you want, only that you want it now.
When you pay for your items, you leave to go out to the Jeep.
He’s scrunched up in the passenger seat, arms crossed over his chest. He won’t look at you as you get in.
You offer him a twix.
He won’t take it.
Most days you pray for the silence.
But right now, you want anything but.
“I love you,” you tell him as you drive back home.
I love you, my stupid rat man.
He takes a moment to answer, but he does. “Me too.”
I love you too, my idiotic pig.