I Miss Them

My brain is wired badly. I can have a conversation about cats, I can talk about computer games for hours and if threatened with firing I can convince a client I know something about taxation. However if I tried to tell my kids that they bring me so much happiness I stammer for a moment and then tell them to go clean up their room. Something there seems really unhealthy.

When my wife is away I can’t tell her that it feels like something is missing. And that isn’t just about her awesome boobs. I’m just not built in a way that I can vocalise that I miss talking to her, I miss sitting on the couch and listening to music together and I certainly miss the sleep I’m not getting without her beside me at night. During our last phone conversation, I’m pretty sure I called her ‘mate’ out of habit.

I shouldn’t be allowed near a fucking phone.

A long time ago I did the Myers-Briggs personality test and it was quite startling. Now I know this method has been debunked and nobody uses that particular test anymore but the result from it really isn’t the issue anyway. What was important was that I manufactured the result. You see people were split into groups based on the findings and one group was right beside the table that had a huge fucking bowl of M&Ms. It just happened that this group was the socially inept one, it was like a self-fulfilling prophecy! Go eat a god-dammed dick, Mars Corporation – you made me what I am.

It should also be mentioned that right now I am missing the fact my wife normally denies me the total awesomeness of a pie-burger. For the uninitiated it’s when you put a meat pie in a sandwich, add cheese, sour cream and sauce. The post meal bliss is what sets it apart from other culinary treats…until the regret sets in.

So much remorse.

So fucking delicious.

• Tweet
• Like It
• Google +