when .. reminisce

Not sure what it happened really. When you stopped talking. Stopped listening. 

or were you always that way?

Was it about the same time as me not being able to meet all your needs ? Or possibly when I decided to focus on saving myself because apparently I wasn’t the same person who you met all those years ago? Or was it when I could no longer give as many fucks as you wanted me to give.

Or was it a culmination of all of the above.

It’s not easy watching you sink away .. eating your own words and regret.

But then I remember.

You left me to fend for myself.

You said it was too hard.

I was too hard.

I’m pretty sure that’s not how love works.

I’m no expert in that department though.

Try as I might, to unfold how we got to this, I find myself asking my Nan .. is this what it was like for you? To be belittled, ignored and largely unloved?


It’s a strange strange thing.

kpm ©



aint you.ay.

you get I’m not you.


you get that i don’t do

like you.

you get that me is not you.


that my experience.

aint yours.


otherwise, i’d

be you

and how fucked.

would that be.


*said in a large tone of dripping sarcasm*

kpm © : ig @kpm-artist


oh hell no…

Deep thought day…along with random funky and slightly manky thought processes; I think its stress ah duh…

Anyway, yesterday afternoon me and the partner finally had a deep conversation regarding the up and coming events. Now when I say deep, our, as a couple, version of ‘deep’, goes a little something like the following:

Me: ‘dear, I’m worried about the surgery’

Him: ‘don’t worry, it’ll be sweet’

Me: ‘please don’t fucken tell me not to worry and flick off my concern like it doesn’t matter…cos I’m trying, have been trying really really really really fucken hard not to worry, but I’m telling you, I’m worried…I’m worried not like boo hoo worry, I’m worried cos I love you yah cunt’

Him: ‘Oooohhh Kay’

Me: ‘so, I’m worried’

Him: ‘Don’t worry, it’ll be sweet’

Fucken muppet!

But we ended up laughing and from there he described in great butchering detail (he used to work in the meat works), what the surgeon, or what he thought, the surgeon would be doing with his back. And although I felt like vomiting and passing out, I was impressed that somewhere in that fuzzy little male mind of his, he had processed the proceedings…just not like my fuzzy little female mind would have. I had to laugh.

Our convo carried on like that for a long while…taking the piss out of the whole thing…me telling him to make sure he’d washed his ass before he goes in, and not to eat anything to ‘gassy’ the night before lol. And to ask pertinent questions of the surgeons/nurses beforehand like: ‘no-ones been on the piss last night?’; ‘everyone ok with their home life? Need to make apology phone calls or anything?’, ‘everyone at peace with themselves and focussed on what your doing??’. We thought we might make up a little questionnaire and pin it to his butt, just to be on the safe side lol.

But, it was good to talk…I’m still worried…but I guess that’s normal and comes with caring about someone else, goddammit!

kpm ©