Gabriel Mizrahi

Ah, so the wedding happened.

The wedding happened.

I forgot to mention, I exchanged a few emails with the guy who wrote in, so her fiancé.

He ended up writing his brother a letter, which is more or less what we proposed, and he said that his stepbrother basically said...

Yeah, you can come if you want, but your fiancé cannot.

And that was all he was able to get out of him.

Then a couple of years ago, I noticed the weirdness starting.

One day, some friends and I parked at their shared family cabin and walked to the lake nearby.

Stacy doesn't own the lake nor the path to get to it, so I didn't think it would be a problem to just park in the driveway.

When we got back, the family friend living at the cabin was home and I asked him if it was okay that I parked there and he had no problem with it.

But Stacy blew up at me for bringing my friends, saying she didn't want me bringing random people there.

Fast forward to last spring.

Stacy's been my hairdresser since she was in school for it.

There have been a few times where she hasn't done exactly what I wanted, but I lived with it.

Oh no, I see where this is going.

This time, she absolutely botched both my color and the haircut.

She could immediately tell I didn't like it.

I was very uncomfortable expressing my concerns because normally she would just wave them off.

I cried for days afterward.

My god, it was horrific.