Our relationship is toxic, like a river of **** or a mercury stained fish, We argue all the time—we hit each other. We bring up past indiscretions and affairs. After we haven't seen each other for a while, it all starts off well enough; we're like dogs in heat. We **** constantly, then the inevitable moment comes when one of us will say, "…and wouldn't a glass of wine be nice? " "Yes, yes it would." Then it turns into bottles of wine, then *****, then you calling the cops and getting me kicked out. Next thing I know I'm under a bridge in the middle of ******* winter. You're in your nice warm apartment drinking your Chardonnay, dancing with your toothless neighbor and driving around with your ex-boyfriend. I can drink myself to death on my own; I don't need some wack-job to help me. At times your ****** might have been my warped little god, but it's time I excommunicate myself from the church of your *******.