The ding of my cellphone woke me up, which is unusual because I normally sleep right through my notifications (which tend to be strange, late emails coming from the LSU Professor because he's living in a different time zone--or from the English instructor who works nights).
In my medically-induced haze around nine thirty pm, I sent Morpheus a scathing TXT-message, full of the anger that had been swimming and suffocating in my lungs and drowning my innards. "The sad thing is you would never treat [the Wife] the way you treat me. You obviously have no feelings for me (hey, I hate being ignored!) I want more from my life than being someone's fucking afterthought."
Now lightly awake, I check my cellphone and the time. It's past one am. I have three TXT-messages from Morpheus. To his credit, he didn't seem to get angry back (or at least was hiding it well).
Incredibly, he side-stepped talking about his feelings for me--at all.
He did, however, talk about the Wife. "There is no [the Wife], so that's off the table for sure now...I'm over it also now."
Not knowing what to say, as I assumed my "crazy" message would go unanswered, I just responded, "I'm sorry I'm upset."
And tried to go back to sleep.
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