The Russian has turned to self employment with me as his marketing advisor and advertisor. I’m working as a nanny now part time and have just started freelancing for a company I interned with back in 2008. Things are rough, but better.

I got trashed Sunday. I drank half a bottle of vodka and some guy working at a shop bought me a bottle of wine and  Igot myself a K cider. I downed the cider in two gulps and did the same with half the wine. After that, I was so far gone that I did not remember anything else that happened that day. From what I was told, I hit on our flatmates, accussed the Russian of lying about so many things, brought up how I hated that he was married, and told him how much I hated seeing those pictures of him and those girls. ‘You don’t have to get drunk to tell me things, you know.’ he said to me the next night.

‘Just before I met you, I dumped a girl for telling me to take down those pictures. `We’ve been dating for two months and those pictures are still up. And you should take your condoms out of the bin before I come around!` At least I was using a condom! And we weren’t even dating. I never saw her outside of this house except for the time we met. She would come over once a week to have sex with me. I like those pictures because of the way they look, not for any sentimental reasons, but I would never take them down. Never. But if you want me to take them down, I’ll take them down for you.’

Maybe an hour later…

‘Should we get married?’ he holds my arms above my head on the bed and looks into my eyes. I smile.

‘Yes…’ I say

‘No!’ he says at the same time.

‘…but later later on down the line……I have a schedule, remember?’ I quickly add.

‘No one knows I am still married. No one. Fo three and a half years we’ve lived completely separate lives. Why pay all that money just to get a divorce? But if we did get married, I wouldn’t hesitate to pay whatever money. We’ll see.’

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