“Limitations? Ah, one persons limitations is another person’s folly,” she said. “This much I know. What you are allowed to do is inconsequential to me.” He stood in the doorway looking at her. She was beautiful in her rage. With a quiet resentment, he knew he could never get her out of his head. And though she was full of pain and anger, he reached out to her to try to contain the emotional conflageration in which she now was tortured.
She pushed him away again. Through tears she put on her shoes–grabbed her coat–found her keys. “How can you stand there and talk of limitations when you took what once was mine–when you just keep me around–why?–not to bounce ideas off of, no–you want to have me–fill up–then send me on my way–empty– when your ego is near to bursting. Limitations? Your ethics are anorexic but your fucking ego is obese!”