I'm with stupid. That's what his t-shirt says. the arrow points at me, because I always walk on his left. People read it and look at us and laugh. They don't know that he doesn't wear it for jokes and giggles. He means it. He always wears it when we go out together, which is only once a week. He allows me to do the weekly shopping with him. He makes the list but I have to carry it, because he always pushes the trolley.
Somewhere deep down I know he's a control freak and I should break away. Amy's told me that, time and time again. I always say the same thing, though. I love him. He loves me. He does, really. Sometimes he can be really nice to me.
We'e in the cake aisle. I could kill for some of the chocolatecake he puts into the trolley, but I know it's for him, not me. I will get apples. One a day.
Suddnly, for a brief moment, I see the light.
He really is with stupid.