pardon me...

Pardon me for a second while I am an asshole.

I understand that we went through a really traumatic event. Maybe it hasn't even hit me fully. Yes, I cried. I was a basket case for 2 days. Then, I just stopped crying. I haven't cried once since about the whole thing. I snapped out of whatever it was and have been moving on. Yes, I have had anxiety issues, but I do the best I can and move on. With that said... dear boyfriend of mine, I am so tired of hearing about your lack of sense of smell/taste since the incident. I am not blowing it off, but if you refuse to do anything about it. I refuse to hear about it anymore. You had a panic attack when we were cleaning out the storage unit. You were in a closed up van and the smell got to you. I get it, I really do. Your body's way of coping is to shut down your sense of smell. I am not a doctor of any sort but it seems pretty damn logical to me. The options you have to fix it are going to involve medication and/or therapy of some sort. I am just losing my ability to be sympathetic to you if you won't do anything about it. There are only so many times I can listen to you talk about it before I lose it. The topic is wearing oh so thin with me right now.