I'd be more prone to losing my love from the years of extreme neglect, myself.
Combine the two, and it'd be a slam dunk. Having your cake and eating it too is one thing... I'd most likely be willing to forgive that. (I think... it hasn't happened to me yet, so I can't say with certainty) But to spend years indignantly refusing to share any cake at all with me and offering excuse after excuse as to why she's unable to bake, and then go on a baking frenzy and still refuse to share any cake with me while bringing every last morsel to someone else, that strikes me as one of the ultimate in dealbreakers.
a fine and enviable madness, this delusion that all questions have answers, and nothing is beyond the reach of a strong left arm.
