Lost Chances & Masturbation

I’m pissed. He’s taking the bed (both now and when he leaves). I don’t love the bed. In fact, the mattress kind of sucks. And it’s a lonely hole of emptiness — lost chances and masturbation.

It would probably be good for me to actually own my own bed. Every bed I have ever owned I shared with “previous administration” (yes that’s funny because in reality everyone knows I’m the fucking administrator). After all, the only bed that has ever truly been mine is at my parents house. A day bed. With brass knobs. I love visiting there because guess what? I get to sleep in my OWN FUCKING BED. I wonder what he is going to put on said bed. Because all the sheets and pillows are mine. When he’s gone I’m making that bedroom my own personal sanctuary. I am fantasizing about what it will look like in my mind.

Kind of like when I was a kid and my Mom was pregnant with my youngest brother. Mom and Dad told me I could have a canopy bed if said child was a boy. Well of course he was a boy. But . . . I never got the canopy bed. I got the day bed with the brass knobs. Am I too old to buy a canopy bed?

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