Nov 22, 2020
No one really knows just how sensitive I actually am.
Some days it makes me laugh thinking about the little things that drove me crazy back then... Like how she would lose her mind and basically refuse to eat if I made us peanut butter & jelly and didn't use a different knife for the peanut butter and the jelly. "It's contaminated now!"
Other days it rips me apart inside. Like standing at the stove or counter and I suddenly remember her wrapping her arms around my waist, turning around, pulling her close and just burring my face in her neck. Now I'm crying over food I no longer want.
Maybe it's just the kitchen. Maybe I should just avoid kitchens at all costs from now on.
