Transformation

  At first, I was instructed how to dress; long, lean lines, tight jeans and black shirts. I was told to lose weight as my behind would look better in said jeans.
 Then he recommended a way for me to urinate. He told me Geisha girls peed one teaspoon at a time to make their anatomy smaller. " This would please me" he said.
 I was told how to wear my hair, long and straight and to have it thinned out.
 Meanwhile, I guesses I played the demure female to his controlling behavior. I wanted to see how it would play out. Inside, I was seething and laughing. " Wait till he gets to know the real me" I thought.
 He also took credit for my so called transformation " you are changing" he repeatedly said, as if he had something to do with my choices. I was in no mood for confrontation or even trying to dig into his unsophisticated brain.

  A couple of years have passed and I have done exactly what I wanted. I gained some weight. I cut my hair and I still pee the American way. I hate jeans and black shirts and prefer dresses and skirts.

 For so long, I was consumed with what he wanted that I forgot what I wanted or didn't want.
Now, it's time for me to go. After three break-ups, because he wanted freedom or wasn't happy, I am through!
 
 Now, he has all the time in the world to dream about his music ( he  thinks he might make it at 52), all his toys, and silly lyrics to music that all sounds the same.
 
 Now, I realize I was there to fill up time, his time, his needs, his archaic southern traditions. All the signs of diminishing love dissipated and I am angry, mostly at myself.

 From now on, he can do his own damn laundry, prepare his breakfast, lunch and dinner and maybe if he ever truly looks into the mirror,he can see his own reflection of non transformation.