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Chickens are the answer to love

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"And I told him. I told him what the worst part of all of that was. And it was that if I had to re-do all of those years, I'd probably do them all the same. Not in the it's-what-made-me-me-and-i'd-never-want-to-change-that way. I just think I'm so ignorant of cause and effect that I'd do it all again. The same mistakes that I'd regret later. All of it. And you know what he said? He said that was a good thing. He said that means I'm happy with myself. I told him he was some combination of blind, deaf, and dumb as rocks, that's what I said to that. He said he thinks it's beautiful, the whole thing. That explains last week when I was stuck up in the cherry tree with twigs in my hair and scratches head to toe. He yelled up "Angela, you're beautiful" in the midst of my struggle. This man is insane. I'm telling you right now that he wouldn't know beautiful if it smacked him dead in the nose. I think tomorrow I'll smack him in the nose and see if he smiles and tells me that it was beautiful. Then I'll know to run away, and run away fast. He always smiles when I do something ape-shit crazy, you know? Remember when I had to run out of church on Easter Day. It was the pastor, I'm telling you Loraine, I couldn't take his voice and the way he kept yelling "Jesus!". And then when it was time for communion, I couldn't do it. I couldn't receive JESUS! from him. Don't look at me like that, that's how he was yelling Jesus. I couldn't. You can't receive communion with such a bad feeling in your heart. You think I wanna go to hell? No, Loraine. Well, I may go anyway, but it won't be for that. So, anyway, I was next in line for communion and I saw the exit and I made a run for it. Well, he came calling an hour later and burst in through the kitchen door while I was taking my unleavened bread out of then oven. I told him why I had to leave, all serious. He said not a word to me and just asked why I was making unleavened bread. It's cause I missed it in church, I had to have it somehow. Even if it wasn't Christ, it was better like this. And all he did was smile at me. This great big smile like I'd just agreed to marry him. Well, I didn't know how to react to that, so I offered him bread. He took the bread, gave it to his disciples and said... no, I'm just kidding Lor. He took the bread, stuffed it into my mouth and kissed me hard right on the lips. Honestly, it was so forceful you'd think he was trying to leave an imprint or something. You know what it reminded me of? When they stamp your letters with the "Air Mail" ink stamp. The press hard, hold it for a few seconds and release. And everyone stamps everything like that. It's like there was a stamping class and everyone who has ever operated an ink stamp has attended. So, that's how he kissed me. With impostor communion in my mouth. I don't know what I'm going to do with him, to tell you the truth Loraine. If he asks me to marry him one more time I'm just going to have to say yes. I can't take this anymore, you know? This romantic shit, It's too much. Besides, around here, no one is still in love after a couple years and a couple kids. If he still loves me after that, well I'd say I'd kill myself but that would just be too wonderfully tragic. He'd probably write a book about his beloved dead wife, make a fortune out of some immortalized love bullshit, then I'd have to rise from the dead and kill myself all over again. And Lor, that's just too much work. Just thinking about it exhausts me. Of course I could love him back and save myself a whole lot of hassle. But I wouldn't know where to begin, see. And even if I figured it out by some miracle, I don't know how I'd tell him. He's come home to find the barn burned down...twice, cows in the kitchen--oh that was an accident and you know it--a hole in the living room ceiling the size of Texas... and he's not the slightest bit surprised. But the day he comes home and I say "I love you", is the day he'll drop dead of a heart attack for the shock of it. And there goes all my hard work down the drain. So, I don't know about this love business. Maybe I'll move to Montana and raise chickens instead. I don't see what other option I have."
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