Continued from You’ve Got a Deal

As matter-of-fact as I’ve made it seem, it wasn’t all merely mechanical. I mean, yeah, there definitely was an agreed upon exchange at the heart of our relationship, but honestly, I liked BD. For all his faults -- that were slowly but surely cropping up everywhere -- he still, at this point, seemed a sympathetic character to me.

Of course, he’d soon become a super villain. But right now, I’m still understanding. So I rationalized adapted to his seemingly ever lengthening list of quirks.

I cooked vegetarian meals every night, sometimes in addition to a chicken breast or something for myself, and sometimes I’d just veg out with him.

The glass of wine I’d previously enjoyed with dinner, I replaced with sparkling grape juice. BD could drink that.

And everything. Everything from the meat BD definitely did not eat to the ketchup on the side door of the refrigerator became organic.

I’m easy. BD is rigid. Makes sense for me to do more of the bending, right? And it was his refrigerator, after all. But when he went through my personal things, my Caboodle (member those? LOL. Mine’s from like 1989) and began ranting about the aluminum in my antiperspirant causing breast cancer, that should have been enough. (He may have had a point, but that was the first of many lines to be crossed).

Dude bought about 10 different natural deodorants and laid them all out buffet style on the counter, encouraging me to try them until I found one I liked. Seriously. Even more seriously though, I tried that bullshyt. Can I just say, anything that does not prevent moisture cannot, cannot, prevent odor. It’s like math. The shyt just doesn’t work.

Looking back, I feel like an older sister watching her younger sibling sink into a relationship of quicksand, helpless to stop her because she won’t reach out her hand. She says she’s not sinking. Just dabbling. Wading.

I did not even see the walls closing in around me because it happened so slowly. I didn’t hear the locks clank behind me because the wheels ground so quietly.

While I thought I was making peace, I was only setting myself up for disaster. And though you could not have told me at the time, it was fast approaching.

Check out 1224 Confessions tomorrow as Melyssa comes head to head with the reality of her rationalizations.

Also, check out more Melyssa at GetYoShyt.blogspot.com and hit her up on Myspace.com/MelyssaGanache.

*All names have been changed

Next Episode: The Ex Factor: He Calls, She Comes (Pun Intended)