We ended our relationship under the most sordid of circumstances. We should have left things buried and moved on. However, I made the colossal error of letting you convince me you had changed and letting you show through your actions that you were not ill-tempered and controlling, that you do not hold grudges. Your efforts were short-lived as you had another one of your episodes, which escalated into one of your tantrums. The evening ended with my choosing to not engage in arguing, which is one of your hobbies, and because I did not wish to take your phone calls, you felt it necessary to come back, yell at me to call the sheriff, and threw one of my Malibu lights at my front door. And then you returned again to throw a potted tree through my bedroom window, which was downright bat-shit crazy. I guess this is the price I have to pay to return to my happy life while you wallow in your miserable one.
