After the first few rocky years of living on our own me and JW finally seemed to settle into a somewhat normal routine. Meaning I became super dependent and afraid of the world beyond our apartment and needed him to do everything and go everywhere with me. Yes I was working but I would panic at the thought of going grocery shopping alone. Yikes. How many nights I sat on our bedroom floor and stared out the window waiting for him to come home. I was a wreck, always on the verge of hysteria and miserably unhappy. A few years of this and he decided we needed therapy.
So we went. Within 15 minutes the therapist diagnosed and cured us. Basically in a relationship we all need to have my life, your life and our life. He had his and ours, I only had ours. The cure? Make friends. Great. Social retardism get outta my way, I need to make friends! I decided to pursue therapy on my own cause I clearly needed help. The therapist convinced me to get on meds, figured out all my childhood issues, made me feel lots less crazy and got me back on track. And miraculously I met a girl that worked at one of the stores I called on and we hit it off and guess the fuck what?? We became friends.
Her husband and JW got along great and we had a bunch of super fun couples nights out. Amazing. Her and I decided to lose some weight and we both did, started going out dancing, buying new clothes, talking on the phone, you know, being friends. JW decided we should start planning our wedding(finally) and life seemed to be great. Then shit hit the fan. My new gf decided that since she was now thinner and sexy she should leave her husband for some hot muscle head and i got caught up in a frenzy of new men, new ideas and romance all while trying to plan our run-away wedding on Maui. I was also thinner and sexy and my growing independence coupled with our work and school schedules was the beginning of the end.