With How Sad Steps, O Moon, Thou Climb'st The Skies
Entry 1 9:56 a.m. That Jenny is dying and having an affair and refusing to stop (or now even acknowledge or admit it), and is angry that I have facts that contradict her claims and her lies, but has no real contrition for the behavior, these are all hard things. It is tough enough to have to deal with just those things. That she alternates between denial and acceptance is understandable, most of us would likely be there--I can't see any reason I wouldn't be wrestling with that every day. But the madness of the illness and naked manipulation that she uses in an attempt to ply compliance to her demands is, well, remarkable. It is shameless. Just after she returned from the hospital, one night at bedtime, she was wracked with pain. It was the kind of pain that makes you act like someone has run an andiron through your right eye and prodded it out your left ear. She had had her regular pain meds, we had worked through the rescue pain meds, a ...