Suspicions (or maybe not)
1 June 2010 01:40 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
timpeltje"Keep you friends close, but your enemies closer," is what they say.
If my interpretation of this is correct, then my very own boyfriend is in fact my worst enemy, up to gather information about me that might lead to my downfall. You must know that I am cautious ever since I came to this realisation. When he makes dinner for me, I always take a bit of what he's cooked and force-feed it to my cat. If 5 minutes later ("It's too hot, my dear, I'll wait until it's cooled down") the cat is still alive, I know that he hasn't been attempting to poison me... Yet! This was actually the main reason why I insisted on having a cat, even though I am allergic to cats (they cause me to expand, which explains my obesity), it is the best life insurance I have now.
And I cannot just take off. Because I know he will follow me and then I will definitely be dead. First I thought he was actually working for somebody else, one of my old arch nemesises (nemesi?), but I always figured most of them had become professional drug addicts and, after that, organ donors. Maybe his enmity towards me started when my other Self took over and maybe it's this other Self he is trying to destroy, bit by bit.
Not that I am too worried though. Every time we arm wrestle, I let him win so that he thinks he is stronger than me, but little does he know I have been a member of the local gym and in this gym a key member of the National Alliance for Steroid Inserters ("NASI", the abbreviation is an unlucky one, I admit). The key thing here is strategy; I need to find out the reason why he hasn't been putting poison in my food (or not enough anyway). There must be something he is after, to complete his ultimate revenge. It can't be my money, because he knows I've invested it all in bright yellow leg warmers (knitted and with stars and/or skulls on them) and the return on my investment won't be for another 70 years, when the eighties will return to us.
What I do know, however, is that I must be very careful with what I say. It makes perfect sense that soon after he got what he came here for, he will do the unthinkable and terminate my existence. I know that we are getting closer to that point, because a while back, he told me he was going to look for a job in a funeral home or a morgue, obviously to learn how to dispose of a body properly.
"I love you," he says, plotting his next move.
"I love you too," I reply, aware of what he's up to.
/T.
If my interpretation of this is correct, then my very own boyfriend is in fact my worst enemy, up to gather information about me that might lead to my downfall. You must know that I am cautious ever since I came to this realisation. When he makes dinner for me, I always take a bit of what he's cooked and force-feed it to my cat. If 5 minutes later ("It's too hot, my dear, I'll wait until it's cooled down") the cat is still alive, I know that he hasn't been attempting to poison me... Yet! This was actually the main reason why I insisted on having a cat, even though I am allergic to cats (they cause me to expand, which explains my obesity), it is the best life insurance I have now.
And I cannot just take off. Because I know he will follow me and then I will definitely be dead. First I thought he was actually working for somebody else, one of my old arch nemesises (nemesi?), but I always figured most of them had become professional drug addicts and, after that, organ donors. Maybe his enmity towards me started when my other Self took over and maybe it's this other Self he is trying to destroy, bit by bit.
Not that I am too worried though. Every time we arm wrestle, I let him win so that he thinks he is stronger than me, but little does he know I have been a member of the local gym and in this gym a key member of the National Alliance for Steroid Inserters ("NASI", the abbreviation is an unlucky one, I admit). The key thing here is strategy; I need to find out the reason why he hasn't been putting poison in my food (or not enough anyway). There must be something he is after, to complete his ultimate revenge. It can't be my money, because he knows I've invested it all in bright yellow leg warmers (knitted and with stars and/or skulls on them) and the return on my investment won't be for another 70 years, when the eighties will return to us.
What I do know, however, is that I must be very careful with what I say. It makes perfect sense that soon after he got what he came here for, he will do the unthinkable and terminate my existence. I know that we are getting closer to that point, because a while back, he told me he was going to look for a job in a funeral home or a morgue, obviously to learn how to dispose of a body properly.
"I love you," he says, plotting his next move.
"I love you too," I reply, aware of what he's up to.
/T.
