Happy Valentine's Day!

On the way home from work...

I do everything for my wife. I pay the bills and put food on the table. I made sure she had a wonderful house over her head. I bought her a beautiful wedding ring, that special one she wanted with the rose shaped out of diamonds. Sometimes I even go out of my way to get her that coffee she always wants when I'm on my way home from work. It's so far out of the god damn way but when she wants it, I go get it for her. There was this one time, she went away with some girlfriends for the weekend, they went skiing or something, and before she got home I spent that whole Sunday just cleaning and cleaning. I mean I scrubbed the thing fucking spotless and when she got home, she didn't even notice. That was okay though. A little appreciation would have been nice but, ya know, that's marriage, right? I've taken her on vacations. We went to Vegas on our anniversary and oh man, did she ever love that. She always said she wanted to visit Vegas and see the showgirls and all the lights. Where was my "thank you" for that? I guess we did have sex a few times on the trip but even that only happens every so often now. Fuck. We used to be so wild! When I was 20 years old, Trish must have been 18 or somethin', we were at this house party. She took me outside and we started feeling each other up on this playground at a school across the street. Ya know what she did? It was fucking unbelievable! She hiked up that skirt and pulled down her panties and told me to fuck her right there on that playground! We used to be so wild! Now... We have movie nights. She'll make the popcorn and we'll watch some bullshit romantic comedy. I hate romantic comedies. I hate movie nights. I want to have sex again! She picks out my clothes, she tells me to act my age, she makes me shower before bed. I've gotta feed her dog's, take out the trash, constantly renovate the house, spend time with her after working all day when the only thing I want to do is sleep, and we are endlessly fighting. Fighting forever about nothing at all really and now its Valentine's day! Maybe I'll just tell her I forgot. It's been a long day. She's always so upset with me and I'm losing my mind and I feel like garbage and I can't take this shit anymore.

Back at home...

He's late again. 7:00 p.m. and he still isn't home. I spent hours making this dinner and he doesn't even have the decency to make it home on time? Figures. He's going to get a piece of my mind when he get's home whether it be Valentine's day or not. I just can't wrap my head around why he does these thing's now. These little, careless, mindless thing's just to drive me up the wall! I do everything to make him happy. I clean the house everyday. I look after his damn dogs! I never wanted to take care of these dogs. I do the laundry and god help me if I ever have to touch another pair of his disgusting, filthy, fucking underwear. I never in a million years dreamed of being a housewife and to be constantly cleaning up after a man everyday. I went to college for interior design. It was my passion to decorate rooms and to draw layouts and pick out fabrics, oh, do I EVER miss doing that! I just don't have the time. I don't have the time for me anymore. Jason did let me go on a girls weekend a year or so back and what a relief it was to be away even if it only was for a couple of days. I got back home and I remember him having this stupid look on his face like, "notice me." So self-centered... He does however like watching romantic comedies on our movie nights. You gotta love a man with a soft side like that. I've never really told him that though. Maybe I should? Nah. It'll probably just start another god damn fight. We have these stupid fights over nothing. Ya know how self-centered he is? He took me to fucking Las Vegas on our anniversary! I mean, what kind of woman wants to go to a filthy city like Vegas as an anniversary gift. I was almost appalled! The only thing I could even comment on the entire weekend was the fact that the light's were sort of pretty. Which they were... He's never thinking of me. How we got like this I'll never know. It's like anything I ask him to do puts this scowl on his face. I clean up after you every fucking day and you can't take the garbage out. Get a grip pal. He better have a gift for me this year, even if it is just a coffee! He better have something when he gets here or I'm going to lose it. I can't take this shit anymore.

Upstairs...

Connor was sitting at the desk he made with his father when he was a little boy. He was 16 now. His birthday was last week but his parent's were to busy or distracted to notice. He didn't have many friend's and his parent's were fighting all the time so normally, he just kept to himself in his room. He was big into drawing and he really liked to play the guitar. He had such a talent when it came to getting something out of his head and drawing it down on paper but unfortunately, most of the time, that too went unnoticed. His favorite place to do draw was at his desk. It reminded him of when he was young and carefree and of a time when his parents used to play with him in the yard and hold his hand on that scary walk to school. That, to Connor, felt like such a long time ago. He finished the drawing and walked it over to his bed. He then stood up on the chair he had positioned right in the center of his room. He had no rope you see, so he slipped one of the over sized ties that his mother had bought him over his neck after tying it to the base of his ceiling fan. He kicked over the chair which didn't really make much of a thud as it fell on to his carpet. As his body jolted and twisted and then finally started to tingle and then go numb, he stared down at the last picture he would ever draw. It was a Valentine's day card to both of his parents. The outside of the card in gorgeous red's, pinks, and white said: "Happy Valentine's Day" and if you were to flip the card over to the inside, which surely Connor could not do, it read: "I'm sorry Dad and Mom... I just can't take this shit anymore."