10/23/2009

 

 

What am I supposed to write? 

I don’t know.  I get complaints that I don’t write enough about my feelings so much so that the people who read me don’t know who I am. 

I don’t know what to put.  My head is throbbing. 

My Doll told me that it was my fault that Shithead and I got divorced.  I made the inside of my mouth bleed not to attack back.  She is only five, but that hurt more than I imagined.  Grannie was beside me.  She said in a few years she would explain why we can’t be married to Doll.  I don’t want her to know what he did.  I don’t want her to feel the same hatred for him that I do.  I want her to make her decisions based on her relationship with him.

I can’t bring myself to tell her “Baby, your daddy is a lying, cheating piece of shit.”  That’s not fair to her.  Hell, none of this is fair to her.

I do my damnedest to not talk about him with her around.  That is evil and vindictive.  Though I could fill her head with so much trash about him, I don’t.  It’s not right.  I have to be the bigger person. 

I don’t want to be. 

I’d like to walk up to his woman now and show her the texts I get every week from him begging for sex.  The horrible videos of him jacking off that he sends me.  Or tell her that if I don’t have someone come outside with me when he is her to pick up my daughter, he is going to grab my boobs or ass.  I try to stay back so he can’t get near me.  It’s easier to have someone around. 

I would do something, but who would believe me?  I’m just the bitter ex-wife who wants to start a fight.

All that and I am the reason we are divorced.

Stupid bastard.  I wish he would leave me alone.

Mandy

 

Ovarian cancer: It whispers, so listen.