what to do when your boyfriend is repossessed by his sister, mother, etc . . .

boyfriends are not like cars or refrigerators from rent-a-center

they cannot really be "repossessed" like a material commodity with an equity and estimated baseline of value.

the transactional analysis of the boyfriend repossession yields less or more value, depending on the bonds in the original family.

my theory is that a trauma-based original situation with massive parental emotional and verbal abuse, led to a greater degree of brother-sister bonding, with such a great significance i cannot understand sever or compromise the repossession.

it is my understanding that no material value could override the repossession.

no amount of money or redeeming virtuous acts could undermine the repossession.

the repossession was hinted at with the snide comment that i should make myself look pretty or i could not keep him.

then the repossession was hinted at with a command to attend baptist church or i could not keep him.

the process of repossession followed numerous requests to drive someone here, watch so-and-so, attend this, attend that.

the process of repossession was fueled by ideological discrepancies so severe, that clearly i represent satan, etc.

the strain became obvious, under the immanent threat of repossession.

the repossessed kept calling the repo people to jump-start the process.

the repossessed flipped like a switch, reprogrammed, re-brainwashed, and switched sides.

then i was called fake.

then i was forced to watch a gang-initiation violence crime act which cemented the repossession and brother-sister rebonding.

then i was called a snake.

all my fantasy dreams of a perfect new forever, crumbled under the adversarial proceeding ----under the acrimonious repossession.

my books and pillows and futon and tea tree oil and lavender oil and art supplies were sealed in the vault of her cancerian shell. i could not re-obtain entry into her cancerian frame for the some ten year plus sentence in exile.

in someways it felt like a hostage taking.

but now, it seems to be a concerted propaganda war enacted over time----before my very eyes, blind to the seeds of hatred---- to sway the heart and mind of the repossessed, to relish repossession, and a re-enculturation into an older hatred and anger-based culture.

so finally, i now, experience the peace, colored by a year of chaos.

the risk to life and limb was profound.

he has now been rechristened butler, babysitter, bodyguard, security guard, whipping post.  he is the now-neutral force for a punching-bag, a convenient patch on her everyday anger.

last i heard, he told her not to call him, she is so disrespectful.

like a novelty, to be tossed off, the possessed.  i imagine the repossession to be a bit of a game of proof. now she has proved her power, to brainwash and control him, what more could her sister's heart want of her brother?  what more? to castrate him? eunuchize him?

how dare she piss on his love parade, and pump him full of hatred, threats and violent speech and words?

denigrate at the top of her lungs him for her projected imagined sin of lust . . . (in front of the children)

she dares, because she knows no other way to survival.
the menfolk are worth fighting over, evidently.

i find it unsisterly, the way she has treated me like a hester prynne to be burned at the stake all of a sudden.

women who hate women.

to scream at in loud tar-and-feather like verbal explosions in front of the townspeople and the church.

why would i trust a woman who asks her brother to choke another human? a human of violence, but why bait your brother to be matched up like a cockfight with a dangerous known maniac? how brutal . . .

cruel cruel nature . . .

and so we give our love back to god, as if the test of the metal by fire might prove something . . .

anything you think you had was slipping through your fingers.
if it wasn't love, it was a sickness in the stomach, until it was a pain in the heart.
it did not start as a pain to the heart.  but when it so became, the prettiness, became a flinching wincing pain and fear, and a trembling knees knocking against the wrath of the mad pickerings of the cape disappointment peninsula of washington state chinook lands.

bask in peace, rest in peace, depickeringed by another deranged pickering repossessing her brother like a forklift for her next project . . .

as if one wasn't enough, then two, and now none.