I text you “ Shall I put the love swing on ebay?”
And you text back “No I’ll have it”
And I felt sick.
I know your having sex with other people, But I try not to think about it.
I should be glad you are, I don’t want you.
I keep thinking of the time you shouted at me for putting too much washing up liquid in when I was washing up.
Someone else is getting shouted at now.
Why would I want to go back to being criticized for everything I do?
Harry Harlow’s monkeys might have the answer.