This post first appeared on moNSTerblog.

Man Child summoned me into the bedroom and pointed at the dressing table. My perfume and pressed powder were on the table and I’d forgotten to pack them. It’s the second time I managed to forget something. Opened my suitcase again, that cheap thing that my Dad got from some travel fair. I was practically prying it open with my nails. After about 10 minutes of struggling with that plastic piece of junk, I groaned (Man Child said it sounded more like a scream) and started sobbing.

I don’t want to go back, I cried to him. Buried my face in his chest and sobbed uncontrollably. He gave me a tight hug and told me that it’s okay. I cried more, because it didn’t feel okay at all. I was secretly hoping that he would give me a choice of quit