You can kindly fuck off now, Sir. Please stop taking foods away from me. I have done so much to cater to your needs, your aberrations. And yet still, I fail to please you? This relationship hasn’t been working for me for eight years. I’m through. Take your weird loafers and those awful bro movies you own and move out.
Yes, I have personified my disease as a male. I’m a woman, which means I can do that.