I stayed with her through her unfortunate incarceration and the subsequent periods she spent in various rehab units and psych wards.
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when an Errant cigarette fell from her fingers and turned my house into a smouldering heap atop a future vacant lot I said, "That's okay dear, it could happen to anyone. Here, have a smoke."
Replacing the dishes after her frequent fits of pique didn't seem so bad; and I really didn't mind so much when she ran my car into the east wall of the courthouse.
Even the hordes of bikers she's invite over to drink away each and every Sunday morning didn't gall me - though the neighbours were unenthused.
I was certain that she was the answer to my prayers. I knew that she was my every dream come true until that cold July evening when I came home early dfrom work and caught her watching "Friends".
That's when I decided to dump the loser.
But would I be a good Messiah with my low self-esteem? / If I don't believe in myself would that be blasphemy? - The Bloodhound Gang Hell Yeah