Am I your secretary? Your handyman? Your assistant? Your errand boy? Your mover? Your maid? Your personal chef? Your in-home pet care specialist? Your fucking slave? No?! Then, why the fuck do you treat me that way?
You throw a fit any time I do anything with anyone else. You tell me when I can or can't work. Then, you throw it in my face that your paying for everything, which is not the case, but you still feel like you have a right to tell me what to do with the money I do make. You don't get to have it both ways. You can't afford to support me. I don't have the things I need, let alone things I want. You dictate my every move and you're a horrible influence.
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