Confession #351
Sometimes, when you are being a complete jerk, I stick my tongue out at you or give you the middle finger when you are not looking. Immature, yes. But it's the only way I can think of venting my anger in the moment without going off on you and telling you what I really think. If I ever did that, we'd be done.
Confession #352
You have had too many chances and fucked them all up. I am sick of being threatened with the possibility you will cheat. I know you say you haven't cheated, but in my mind, looking for "discreet sex" behind my back is just as bad. Couple this with your drinking, lack of interest in anything but yourself, the years of being unemployed that I supported you, and your inability to do any menial task for yourself and what to you get? You get two weeks to get yourself some intensive mental help, or else I am going to help your ass out the door.
Confession #353
When you say, "I'll clean up the kitchen, honey" I kinda expect it to be...you know...CLEAN. My idea of a fun morning is not scraping crusted on food from the dishes you tossed in the sink. At least scrape them and put them in the dishwasher. And you want to know why you had no hot water for your shower this morning? Because you were too lazy to do this very job last night when you SAID you would. Lazy jerk.
Confession #354
When I picked you up, I thought this was going to be a two week thing or no better than a booty call, I mean was serially dating getting over getting over an abusive, lazy man and you told me you hated animals but I have a spoiled dog and I didn't trust men anymore, let alone have faith in them.
Then you came to see me at home every weekend and sat with my mom and played with my cousins I though: Oh my!
Then you got me blue (YES, BLUE!) roses cause you knew I hated the red roses my ex used to bring me to "appease me" I thought I was seeing things!
When I had the "Deadly Mutaba Virus" and I was coughing like a dog and my chest hurt so bad but you hugged me even harder so I wouldn't cry out in pain.. I could not believe my luck.. When you got sick cause you sat next to me and covered me up with kisses for a solid 3 days and spoke for me so I wouldn't lose what little voice I had; I loved you more than I have ever loved another human being cause instead of going out to drink and smoke pot like my ex used to do when I used to get sick YOU STAYED
When I was scared and I cried, you cried because you never see me cry and you couldn't believe I was holding so much in and then you proceeded to make me laugh, to reassure me you are here for me and that you love our life AND OUR SPOILED BABY DOG too….at that time I said a silent prayer of thanks to God for putting you in my life, J my love I thank you for all that you've given me and all the love and all "five minutes arguments", and the fun and the games of card….I hope to be able to give you back in this lifetime at least half of what you've given me.
Confession #355
I sometimes worry that our first child isn't yours. It is possible that the guy I met on spring break is the dad – but I couldn't even tell you his last name. At this point, it doesn't seem like it would do any good to tell you. But every time he gets blood work done I am petrified that we'll find out for sure. Now that our daughter is here, I worry that her blood type will give it away.
I think you wonder too. And thank you that you've never investigated further.
Confession #356
ok so yes I am 41 years old and still have a diary, but girls of my age called them journals. AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING READING MY JOURNAL !!
So now I will have to burn it, yes I am writing about you- of what a pain in the ass you are and how I am SICK OF YOU BEING SUCK A F+*%#ING PUSSY!
and yes I DO talk to other people here at work and YES some of them are guys. BUT THAT DOES NOT MEAN THAT I AM TALKING LOVE TO THEM. I AM JUST TALKING ABOUT STUFF WITH SOME OTHER THEN YOU - you sick head.
Confession #357
I hate that you get mad at my mom for the way she is, yet your mom is a walking anxiety disorder and you think that she is making sense. I hate that we can't sit out on the deck and get drunk and make passionate love because you don't really drink. I do. I drink when you go to bed. I love my time alone. I love you, yet I don't feel passionate about you anymore. I want that back. And I think about my long-ago ex, for whom I did feel passion, every minute of every hour. I want to call him.
Confession #358
I hate that you don't listen. I hate that you interrupt me when I try to speak and talk over me when you want to change the subject. Despite what you think, the world does not revolve around you. The real reason that your friends call and talk to me instead of you? They think that you are an arrogant, rude, know it all and are tired of your bullshit and feel sorry for me because I have to put up with you.
Oh, and one other thing. That phony accent that you came up with to make yourself sound smarter and to disguise where you are really from? It is really annoying. And completely transparent. You sound like Mr. Howell from Gilligan's Island.
Confession #359
I long for you to touch me more. Hugging, Kissing. Anything. You could repair so many things if you'd just touch me more. Not sex - that's the only time you do touch me , or when you've fucked something up so badly that you fear I'll leave you. A Caress. A hand holding. Although I've told you this a million times, you never do. I'm lonely. This is what will drive me to another man some day.
Confession #360
I knew we shouldn't have gotten married when we were at the hospital having our first baby and all you could think about was your cell phone. I made the decision to start preparing to leave when I was 7 months pregnant with #2 and you cheated on me with some 24 year old named Lisa. I decided to leave on Sept. 24, 2005 when we were in Mexico having the most rotten day of my life. I led you on when you wanted to move 1200 miles away from YOUR hometown -- said what a good idea it was to go live near my parents and get a "fresh" start. Now it's been 6 months since we moved, 3 months since you left here to go back to your momma. Guess what -- I just paid a private investigator to find your ass... you will have all the creditors after you (like they've been after me) AND have to pay for children I hope you will never see. And, remember that guy that I had a fling with when we were on a break 7 years ago? He's a better dad to your kids than you'll EVER be. As soon as this divorce shit is over, I'm taking all MY SHIT and moving back to MY hometown to be with him -- still 1200 miles away from you.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
To confession #360. What you have written is a whole bunch of resentment for choices you did not follow up on. You decided to leave three times but didn't. Thus stranding yourself with two kids far from family and friends and buried in bills. If you take responsibility for your choices and make whatever moves you have to without blame shame or regrets you will be teaching your children a valuable lesson in what it is to be a responsible whole human being. Right now you are showing them how to shirk responsibility and blame others for the terrible circumstances they find themselves in.
This is not coming from judgement but from experience!
All I can say is wow.
I definitely agree with #351, I've done the same thing. Many a times.
You can't ethically collect child support without granting visitation rights. The two things are connected.
Post a Comment