The Old Bag and The Catholic Priest

Better an “old bag on the shelf”than married to a narcissist.

I was reminded today of the last conversation I had with a former flatmate of mine.

He was headed off to become a Catholic priest at the time.

Yeah that’s right, two years living with me and he was off to join the priesthood.

I remember him whistfully wondering if we would ever meet again.

As usual I had ruined the moment by commenting that we would probably bump into each other one day, pushing trolleys around Sainsbury’s.

Actually I am beginning to see why I wound up with a narcissist.

My former flatmate had then used my own words against me, repeating my not infrequent refrain that I would

probably end up an old bag on the shelf.

That was it.

That was our final conversation although we did write to each other for a while. I did find sending letters to the Vatican somewhat disconcerting.

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