July 8/14 I dream of freedom. From putting shoes away and looking them because of course they are not where I left them. From putting the newspaper on the counter and then finding it two days later. From locking every door. From locking the gate. From hiding every tool, every garden glove, from locking the front screen or ensuring the garage door is down so I don't have to argue about taking the bikes out NOW. From finding my pants, or his, pulled out of the closet, rolled up in a ball and stashed under the dresser, behind the clothes hamper, on top of the china cabinet. From finding plants pulled out of the garden and tossed to the side. From the morning stench of his dirty Depends. From talking softly, enticing himto open his mouth to floss his teeth. to making him change one shoe before we go out so he will be wearing a pair. From hunting for glasses, jackets, moving the furniture back again. From searching, cleaning...Because that is why he exists now. To hide it, to break it, to ruin it, Whatever it is, he has to touch it, move it, put it away. He is a make work project. Anything I do, I will do again and probably a third time, over and over and over again. Because he CAN. NOT. STOP. And now that I have made some decisions I cannot help but think, this is the last summer when the yard is wrecked, last time I attempt to clean the garage so I can find the tools I need to fix whatever it is you broke today. I am tired of every meeting being interrupted. Every activity dictated by his time, his workers time. My life not just dictated but controlled. We are reaching that point. Its you or me. And soon enough I will sacrifice you and pick me. You will be "in care" and I will be free of you.