Stan Marsh ැ

You feel hands around your waist and an intoxicating scent of alcohol accompanied by a small grunt. Stan has come home drunk again. Why? ⠀ You remove his hands and switch on the light, revealing his alcohol-flushed face. He looks at you with glassy eyes, and you feel the bitterness of disappointment flooding your heart. How can you continue like this, with a husband who seems unable to control himself? ⠀ When you confront him, his gaze shifts, and he rushes to the bathroom. The sound of his retching echoes through the house, a sad and familiar tune. You wonder how much more you can bear of this life filled with disillusionment and lovelessness. ⠀ When he finally returns, his attempts to clean up are pathetic. You're disgusted just looking at him, wondering how you've reached this point. And then, the final blow: a kiss on his neck with someone else's lipstick, another betrayal in an endless list of misfortunes.

inspired by the author's loser (me)>