The Bank Account

She changed her bank account, the email telling me what she had done made me flush and queasy. She was making moves to protect her interests from me. I wish that she knew she didn’t have to do that. Yes, I had fucked-up our finances, but I had also helped her with her school and her savings and her security issues letting everything be in her name. I’m terrified of leaving her because I think then I will truly be alone. Somehow in my own fucked-up thinking it’s better to be with someone who doesn’t know who you are than it is to be by yourself. When I’m alone will I just get fatter and meaner until I am as repulsive as the old man was when he died un-mourned and un-missed? How could she setup a separate bank account? So I can’t get at her measly pay? I feel like I have sacrificed so much and when I declare my sacrifices it makes me feel small and petty. Then she does something like change her bank and I think she sees me as small and petty. I want so badly to be noble and I want to be recognized as noble, but it is ignoble to want such a thing much less ask for it. Paradoxes and dilemmas at every interaction. I see myself the sad saint and the pathetic loser who see himself the sad saint when he ain’t