@Tracee , I recommend a song that got me through a very painful break up.
The chorus is "I, love you, but if you treat me like shit, you can just f*ck off."
(I set it as my ex's ringtone.)
Your ex sounds like a stellar specimen of humanity. Heaps considerate and enlightened, not at all full of sexist bullshit, sounds like a wonderful man all round (sarcasm.) Although, fun story, I came out to my brother in a strip club. He wad drunk as f*ck, dressed in (very bad) drag, and leaning all over me so much that we got kicked out of the previous place for "inappropriate coupling behaviour." The strip club next door bouncer was like "ladies, ladies, come in here! Free for laaaadies tonight!" So we went in. He said a stripper's tits were fake. I said they weren't. He asked me how I knew...
Now my rant. Jesus Christ what is with the Catholic church? (Somehow, I don't think he'll answer me.) Yeah, let's build an institution predicated on the belief that it doesn't matter what you do, provided you're sorry about it once a week! Let's create confessional anonymity booths so the priests don't have lustful thoughts! Let's call it tradition, and place it above the law! While we're at it, tablecloths! Can't have anyone cracking a fatty at dinner over a shapely, shapely wooden leg! (All true.)
And f*ck compulsory performative heterosexuality.
f*ck dressing like a perfect daughter.
f*ck doctors in general, and a few in particular.
f*ck surgery.
f*ck stitches.
f*ck x rays.
f*ck fractures.
f*ck PTSD and it's shitty wanking arse-faced consequences.
It can suck my gay cock.
f*ck feeling like I'm gonna throw up or shit my pants or both.
I have a long and noble history of throwing up on/near doctors.
Let's hope I don't today.