There is no other way to describe it. I'm tired of logic and reason.
Things in this house go missing and it has nothing to do with anything but a simple rift in the time/space continuum. It is the opposite of Cardiff which gets things deposited. I get things taken away.
Hey, perhaps my stuff is in Cardiff! Perhaps the fact that I can only find two dish towels now and two spoons is because they are lying on the pavement in the Millennium Center.
When STBX was here, he blamed any missing object on myself or the kids. He could do a fifteen minute rant about how we always lost his stuff and then when he would find it right in the pile where he left it, there was never an acknowledgement or an apology. We were always wrong, he was always right and that was the nature of the universe.
But there was always another theory that he would propose when he couldn't find what he was looking for. His propositions were sometimes given with a lack of his usual "fuck you" sarcasm, presenting me with someone who was either a really good actor (#1 in deception!) or else a freakin' lunatic.
Did you know that when he would lose his stuff it was because someone broke into our house and took it? Of course, when I would lose something of mine it was because I lost it. But since he never screwed up he had to find another reason. I never could figure out what differentiated something that he thought I lost with something that he said was stolen.
We have VERY selective thieves in lakeside. They only take the possessions of one spouse and they always bypass the flat screen tv in favor of the pipe wrench.
I think that's been one of the biggest irritants when I deep clean this house. It is the constant sliver under my fingernail. I come across things that are so totally buried in his crap and I remember the accusations and the sheer assholery that I went through when he would be so intent on letting me know that I was a screw up.
This irritation can come out in rather inappropriate ways as I'll be digging through the garage and find something and I'll stand there, object in hand, cursing it a blue streak and letting it know that no, I'm not the idiot that lost it.
Which brings me back to the present. To reality.
Things go missing in our house.
We do not have thieves that are particular to dish towels and spoons.
I do not have a spouse that I can unload on and tell him that he JUST NEEDS TO LEAVE MY STUFF ALONE!
I choose to look at the situation realistically.
There is a stuff-sucking vortex in my house that is transporting my towels and spoons to Cardiff, Wales.
Makes perfect sense, doesn't it?
And let me tell you, it is SUCH a relief to get that paranoid wack job outta here!
He was so totally out of touch with reality.