Door of Disagreeance

There’s a woman from my past, that when I think back, annoys the hell out of me, and in fact I still want to lecture her on the ways how not to treat men, because I never got to tell her. She was a controlling abusive abrasive she-devil. To this day, I struggle with why I spent nearly two years of my life with her. She was short and stocky like a good catcher should be, but she was cute and mousy in the face. When we first really talked, and not just smiled and flirted in passing, when we really talked, she told me she would be bringing her two-year-old daughter with us on our dates. The next time we talked she told when and where we would have sex. And we did. She told me to stay, and I did.
And then I thought, why do I think like this?
She hit like a guy, and did often, because I let her. She told me to call her when I got home, so she’d know I made it safe, and no one ever told me that, and I did. She told me. She told me we were good together and I thought so.
She didn’t tell me how she truly felt about her mother. And I genuinely enjoyed talking to Marilyn. Marilyn was an un-adopted orphan from New Jersey, who had made it out, and she was a good woman. But her daughter I knew best and maybe other of her children, were somewhat domineering and a little off. And from what I could tell, it was because of Marilyn. Marilyn told her husband and children what was what. But her children. Some were not right.
The one I speak of, she, she made me sit to pee, and thereby so did Marilyn, but I’m only pissed at the younger. How emasculating, to sit as a man and pee, when God clearly made us able to pee while upright. She said there was hard evidence that much splash-back landed on the floor around the bowl, and they had beige carpeted bathrooms. So I was told to squat like a woman, and I’ve not forgiven her. Eventually we both found we could not tolerate each other and the best occurred, when we parted ways.
But I must tell YOU, that she still makes me angry, when I think of the way I let her treat me. However, I did talk many long hours with Marilyn, where I learned much about life from her. Even though I didn’t agree with many of her iron clad opinions, I respected her, for what she had been through, and she knew many trends about people and their ways. And she warned me of things and signs about people I later valued. So it seems I may have known this woman I now despise, because I was meant to meet her mother and learn a few truths.
There’s more to say. And I might get to it one day.