This was a fun time in my life, folks. Cousinfucker was melting down, thanks to Blockhead. Looking back on it I was melting down as well.
It’s not easy to start all over. It’s especially not easy to start all over when you’ve moved 2000 miles across the country and know you’re a mere six hours from the whore. Add in the fact that I knew we had moved to Whoreville because he set the wheels in motion during his first affair with her, and that I felt like everyone was ganging up on me (can it be called a feeling if it’s actually happening?) and you’ve got one hell of a storm. A storm that obviously CF had no control over and did not contribute to any way.
Ugh! I’m in a pissy mood. Thinking more about our anniversary, our fucked up, glorious milestone, 20 year anniversary. It pisses me off. I keep asking myself, “What is it exactly that we’re celebrating?” I figure anyone can make it 20 years if you’re allowed to date other people. Nothing special about that. And I don’t think there’s anything remarkable about celebrating 20 years together when only a year and an half prior to that anniversary you were telling everyone who would listen that you wanted to be free of your wife and marry another woman. Telling everyone you’re madly in love, blissfully happy, and have finally found your soul mate… And it’s not your wife! Oh yes, let’s celebrate! Celebrate the fact that after tossing me aside for some whore you finally pulled your head out of your ass and decided to pick me back up. I guess I’ll keep her. Wow- if that doesn’t give me the crotch tingles I don’t know what will.
I think I’m going to tell him I don’t want to celebrate our anniversary anymore. It always leaves a sour taste in my mouth. I feel okay leading up to it and then I spend weeks raging about it. If my fingers weren’t so damn fat I’d take my rings off, too. He gave me those as a promise. He broke his promise. Why would I want to wear the ring anymore? What was the vow? I give you this ring as a sign of my love and faithfulness. Faithfulness. Not as a sign that I want to fuck you right now but I reserve the right to fuck my whore of a cousin one of these days. I’ll get a plain band to wear instead. I think plain gold says more, “I give you this ring as a sign of my temporary fidelity. If someone I think is better comes along I reserve the right to want to marry her and humiliate you.” That’s what he’s going for, right? Something sweet but not too permanent or committed.
I would love to know how far along they got in the planning stages. Did she pick out a ring or did they just talk about what kind she wanted? Did they set a date? Did she ask his sister to be her matron of honor since she was such a supporter of their illicit relationship? Did she have the church and reception hall booked, or just picked out? Ah yes, the questions every wife is asking about her husband’s whore for their 20th anniversary.
Well, this day is ruined.