Waiting for Sunset (14, on second thought...)

 
Now I am about to finish the final draft of a book of poetry. He always replies to my maunderings. He insists our work should relate to each other. He always greets me in the morning and helps me sleep at night. I wanted to destroy all my work. I get ignored sometimes. I felt too exhuasted.

We have an unusual relationship. Soon I couldn't write. I couldn't understand why I had to bear the last of the intensity of his struggles. My life has been like this since 2005. I became angry and destructive. This was how I lost all my work. Disparaging and hurt. I became what he was. He's jealous of my stuffed dog Edward.

But nowadays he has changed. One afternoon I remember I was neck-deep in the water and the tide was coming in. Perhaps because I became an ugly mirror of himself. I often appeared to be very strong. Now he is more affectionate. My tumors are all behaving themselves too. I try to control my depression without it. He said I talk to Edward too much. My husband is the dragon.