It’s been 14 years now since I left him, but I still have nightmares about my abusive ex. The latest one happened just last night, although the details are sketchy. I did talk about him a bit with my therapist yesterday, so it must have stirred things up in my head.

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I haven’t seen him in person since 2011. Here is a list of things that I would rather do than to ever have to see him again.

Eat nothing but lima beans for an entire week.

Get a colonoscopy. (I spelled that right on the first try.)

Go to a Justin Bieber concert.

Watch a Barney marathon.

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Eat your brussel sprouts, kids!

Abstain from saying the word fuck for a year.

Sleep on a slab of concrete.

Tell everyone about that secret that nobody knows about. 

Let the public flick boogers at me. 

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Take that, Mer!

Drink a gallon of buttermilk (hopefully without vomiting.)

Go without my iPhone for a month. 

Book another luxurious stay at the nuthouse for a week. (Okay, maybe not.)

Break my fingers with a hammer. (I better stop, this shit is getting ridiculous now.)

As you can clearly see, I loathe my ex entirely.

Have a cathartic Fuck It Friday.

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