“That’s not your problem, bro,” I reply, rolling my eyes. “Send him to the hospital.”
“I’m a nice person,” he protests. “I help people.”
“Well,” I counter, my voice cold, “maybe you should start acting like a man and stop acting like a baby.”
Me:
Ugh. He just took a steak and mandarins and a Gatorade to our neighbor.
He’s nice, but he needs to stop giving our shit away to make himself look good to other people.
Alice:
Seriously. It isn’t a house of plenty.
Need to make sure your own household is taken care of first.
I tell her about the anonymous messages outlining his behavior.
Alice:
Girl. That is all red flags.
He does this to everyone.
If you kick him out for real, he’ll find someone else.
It’s what he does.
Timmy sits on the edge of the bed, his face twisted in frustration. “Why are you so mean to me?”
“Because I’m sick of you wasting my life savings because you’re so lazy and refusing to get a job. And you don’t seem to value anything I do. Go find another woman whose money you can absorb.”
His lip trembles, and he begins to cry. “I can’t take much more of your resentment,” he whispers.
I update Alice.
Me:
He’s crying because I told him the truth.
Alice:
Resentment is built, not manifested.
Me:
I have so much. At so many people, and I wish I didn’t.
And I didn’t move here to develop more.
Alice:
No. But if you keep him around, you will.
She has a good point.
I sigh and nod my head.