I hear it from everyone. My parents. My friends. Hell, even my enemies. “She’s not good enough for you, man. She’s using you, can’t you see? You two don’t mesh”

To hell with them, I say. Although, I admit, the dysfunction in our relationship is much higher than that of other couples. Let me fill you in on the furniture store fiasco:

She’d wanted to look at lamps, on my dime, of course. That’s how it always was, but I digress. This day was just like any other when she’d dragged me out to shop with her, she marveled at every lamp while I shuffled a few feet behind. That’s when I realized that I’d had enough.

I’d told her that we should probably leave, unless she was paying, which she clearly didn’t like. Before I could even process what was going on, an elegant crystal lamp had clipped my ear, shattering behind me. Employees got to us just fast enough to keep her from grabbing another, and escorted her out of the store with me trailing behind.

She’d yelled the entire ride home. I should get out while I can.