There was one draw in his desk Carl always kept locked, and he made a point of carrying the key with him. I had asked him about this draw, but only go... some mumbled answer about special research. The lock was in fact quite a commonplace one, so I got every key in the house and tried them out on it. Eventually I clicked it open with a wardrobe key. What I found was what I now suspected I would find. It was filled with packets of love letters from, and poems to, a host of girls. Carl had gone. In fact, we haven’t spoken to each other at all in quite some time … but the tension is continuous. I dread going home after work because I never know what kind of mood he’s going to be in when I get there. Will he be screaming at me, go back to the constant demanding of the past few years, or will he just continue to ignore me altogether?Friends keep telling me I shouldn’t have to live under someone’s thumb like this, and they’re right: love is supposed to be sweet and fulfilling, not painful. More

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