You like fixer-uppers and projects. You like finding breaks and making them strong again. You like to get your hands dirty. You like the jobs that others leave behind.

And me, well I like a man who can work with his hands and knows how keep a machine running smoothly. I like a guy who knows the importance of a strong foundation. I like a hard worker. I really do.

So it shouldn’t have been a surprise when my affections fell into your lap. Starting a journey with a handyman seemed so reassuring after all the breakdowns in my past. Your hands may be rough, but they’re gentle. I honestly thought I struck gold when our paths managed to collide.

But just like I said, you like fixer-uppers.

So when an old abandoned project crept back from your teenage years, you simply couldn’t resist. You cared more than you’d let on back then, and it kills you now to see it all so worn-down and broken. You can’t stand the thought of history repeating itself. So like any committed handyman would do, you made it your priority to start strengthening the breaks. No matter that the situation spirals out of control – you are drawn to the pity cases.

Meanwhile, I’m left behind. You don’t tell me that I’ve taken a backseat. You don’t mention that there’s been an emergency. And I suppose I get it; you don’t want to lose my business altogether, but you certainly don’t want me wading through the rubble and stumbling upon a secret client. You want me at arm’s length – close, but safe.

I want to be angry with you – this isn’t how you treat the one who adores you most. I want to scream that I know the truth. I want to take every sweet thing you ever said to me and shove it back down your throat.

See if it sounds the same when you say it to her.

Fixer-uppers are your thing. Trust me, I get that. But, tell me, did you not see the gaping holes in my hands? The dried blood all over the soles of my feet? The shattered heart you left me with? I’m just so confused now, pacing my room without any understanding or confidence or clarity.

You scrap together the leftovers and call it good enough. But, Love, you deserve so much better than that. If you’d just try it, I think you’d find it more satisfying to build things from the ground up. Like you could have built a life with me.


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