I still have drains coming out my chest from the surgery and my ex proclaims he "desperately" wants me moved out of his house as soon as possible; I hear him loud and clear. I certainly don't want to stay where I'm not wanted, so I call my friends to action and they moved my belongings. I'm out: following comes the enraged text about his seasonings, which aren't gourmet, they are Plain Jane A&P spices. "You took my spices! Return them or else!" he threatens. On the rare occasion he cooks, it's macaroni and cheese or chili; he's no chef. Seriously? You break up with me and kick me out days after my mastectomy and you're freaking out over spices? I'm bewildered that a millionaire can be so petty and crude. I'm remorseful I let him in intimately; I fell in love with his representative: loyal, strong, emotionally stable and available, spiritual and attentive, not the real him: selfish, weak, narcissistic, self aggrandizing and emotionally bankrupt, i.e. the intimacy bait and switch. Never would I have chosen a partner that would leave me when I'm at my most needy. The beast does one thing well - it shows people's true colors. 

"When a partner shows you who they are, believe them." Maya Angelou.