No, I Don’t Want to Take Your BeeKeeping Class
The perils of well-meaning people giving you presents you don’t like
My beloved ex Honey, was the kind of person who had enthusiasms — many of them were mine, too. Until they weren’t.
We loved photography. Paris. Cooking. We loved unearthing gay history. We loved a good picket line. She loved buying me beautiful high heels.
Trouble arose when she took up a hobby I didn’t embrace. She wanted to do everything together; I’m the separate vacation type. Honey Lee, she would’ve liked the kind of marriage where you are not out of each other’s sight for a minute!
“Why does it have to be a big deal?” I’d say. I was all for her motocross, mushroom, and desert safaris, for her. “Go for it!”
Hon took this very hard, very hard indeed. She’d get so hurt, so wounded when I wasn’t 100% stoked about her latest fad, that I would submit and do the very thing that terrified or bored me, just to end the guilt trip.
Her big blue eyes…