More About the Mobster

How could I have forgotten to write about some of the sweet things he did the last weekend we were together? I have no idea!

First, when I arrived at the house he was in the process of making me chocolate dipped strawberries. That man has memorized my list of 100 things I love. I’m going to have to come up with another list. I may even begin a list entitled, “Things I Would Like To Do,” or “The Most Romantic Things a Man Could Do For Me,” or “Places I’d Like to Go.” He uses it as a Bible, I tell ya! I love that!

I have to laugh at the memory because he told me when I got there that he was hoping he would have more time to get them ready. The problem is he likes to stop every 15 minutes and I don’t stop. So we have Mosey Along Mobster and the Driving Nazi. He’s all like, “Could you not have stopped for a cup of coffee?’ and I’m all like, “But, baby, I wanted to see you! Come on; it was a four and an half hour drive. How many times would I have needed to stop?” Seriously, it works though.

The strawberries were delicious. They were dipped in chocolate and love.

Secondly, the man buttered my roll for me. I was saying he buttered my biscuit but that sounds rather risqué and it was a roll- a yeast roll to be exact. I was messing around on Facebook, asking him if I should say I was checking in to the church we had just gone to even though we weren’t there at that moment, when I noticed him grabbing a roll and buttering it. I figured he was starting to eat, which was perfectly fine. I was messing around on Facebook after all. I ended up “checking in” to the church and then turning around and “checking in” to O’Charley’s. When I finished I noticed I had a buttered roll on my bread plate. I melted. “You buttered my roll for me! You are the best man in the world!”

It really is the little things. He laughs and tells me I’m easily pleased. He also tells me it’s nice to have someone that is so appreciative of these small gestures.

He admits he was very worried in the beginning that he wouldn’t be able to give me all the material things that CF could. He has taken note over the months though that I’m not a materialistic person. Sure, I like having money (who doesn’t?) and I like nice things, but I’ve said many times I would rather live in a one bedroom apartment with the mobster than in a 4000 sq. ft. home with CF. He is getting it. He realizes he doesn’t have to buy me expensive gifts to make me happy. I want the man who butters my roll and knows I love chocolate covered strawberries so he takes the time to buy the ingredients and make them for me. I want the guy who knows that when my cheeks get rosy it’s because I’m getting tired, or I’ve had a single adult beverage (which makes me tired so that’s basically the same thing!). We were just talking and he remarked that my cheeks were getting red so I must be getting tired. Twenty years with CF and I doubt he could tell you one thing like that about me.

I called the mobster after work. I told him I wanted him to tell me everything would be okay and to calm me down. It was not a huge thing. I was overwhelmed with everything that is going to happen this year and trying to figure out how I was going to schedule vacation time to get all these various things scheduled. He did calm me down. He did tell me everything was going to be okay. Had it been CF he would have either rushed headfirst into the crazy, making it two or three times worse, or he would have made fun of me and told me to lighten up, that it was no big deal and not worth stressing over.

For those not in the know, my mobster has his own blog, Divine Doorknobs. That is how we met. You know how WordPress tells you every time someone likes a post or reblogs something you wrote? Well, he liked a post of mine, The Wacky Things Cheating Women Say. It was probably because the post hit home seeing as how he was dealing with his own cheating wife who said her share of wacky things. I did as WordPress suggested and checked out his blog. I was touched by his writing. His story was hopeful at times and then would descend into gut wrenching sorrow. I could identify with so much of what he had written. I commented. He commented back. One comment led to another and he offered to exchange numbers so we could text and vent to one another. Only a day after we began texting he asked me to call him on my lunch hour. I was a little hesitant but I figured, “Why not?” So we talked and that’s how he got his nickname. Days later we video chatted. I was completely charmed. He drove 10.5 hours to meet me, to spend time with me. He made me smile from the day I began talking to him.

Recently he wrote a post about me, about us. It is his love letter to me. Yes, he declared his love for me out there in the blogosphere so everyone would know. Please go check it out at: https://divinedoorknobs.wordpress.com/2018/01/26/5-2017-changed-everything/ I’ve read this entry a half dozen times at least. Every time it warms my heart. He’s an amazing writer himself and I love the way he expresses his feelings for me. I love the fact that he’s willing to share it with the world. For the first time in a very long time I feel completely, blissfully loved.

The Money Game

I absolutely hate communicating with CF in any way. As expected the first bi-weekly payment didn’t arrive by Wednesday (the 17th). I’m tired of being passive about his non-payment so I texted. I wasn’t nearly as wordy as I originally thought I was going to have to be. I simply let him know I hadn’t received the check yet. Oh, I prefaced it with the reminder he had asked to pay bi-weekly and I agreed. I also acknowledged I didn’t know which Friday he was actually paid but regardless he had had enough time to send me the support check.

Oh my! You would have thought I’d been hounding him for months. He told me to “check [my] damn mailbox” and concluded with, “Greedy much.”

Yes, that’s me. Greedy ’til the very end. Actually expecting him to keep current on his support obligations? What a bitch! I guess since he finally sent his arrears he figured he didn’t need to pay again for a few months.

He proceeded to inform me that he had no idea why I didn’t have it, it wasn’t his fault if the post office didn’t get the mail to me on time and then let me know he hadn’t received proof that I had health insurance on the kids. That would be nice to see as well, he wrote.

Hmmmm… maybe I didn’t have it yet because he had mailed it the day before I sent the text! And had the audacity to act as though I was being unreasonable in reminding him.

I’m also going to disagree that it’s not his fault. Obviously, if you get paid on Friday and don’t bother to send a check until Tuesday it’s your fault the payee hasn’t gotten paid yet. Furthermore, even accepting his lame lie that he sent it on time, it may not be his *fault* I haven’t received the check but it certainly is his *problem*. I’m not sure how likely the judge is to believe the check just takes a really long time to get to me every month.

As for the snark about the proof of insurance- that was never required. Ask nicely and I will probably be willing to show you proof. Be an asshole and you can go fuck yourself. Guess which category he’s in?

He concludes his little rant with the following: You will have your “well deserved” funds in plenty of time before the month end. Don’t stress yourself out.

What a condescending little twat waffle! Yes, I’m “stressing myself out” by reminding him he owes me money and I haven’t received it.

I am a little curious about the quotation marks around well deserved. I’m wondering if that’s a clue he’s been hacking into yet another area of my life. I’m not sure I’ve ever described support as “well deserved” but perhaps I have. Or perhaps someone close to me did and that’s his little way of letting me know he’s everywhere.

Would you like to know how this story ends? I checked the mailbox that day at lunch (I sent the text on Wednesday and he didn’t reply until Thursday) and lo and behold there was a check! For $902.91- half of child support. No new images on the envelope. A few days later I get another check. This one was for $1400- half of spousal support. I must tell you he wrote on the memo line: Court ordered alimony. He must really resent that. This envelope had the same picture as the last alimony check.

 

Does anyone out there in the blogosphere knows what the hell it means?

I just found out he sent yet another check for the other half of child support. I guess I’ll get the last $1400 on the last day of the month. So much for, “You will have your ‘well deserved’ funds in plenty of time before the month end.”

Is it just me or is he playing games? The judge orders him to pay in full on the 1st of the month. He has his lawyer ask me/my lawyer to allow him to pay bi-weekly because that’s how he gets paid. I agree to this. He then proceeds to pay me whenever he feels like (I still don’t know if he got paid on the 5th or the 12th). Instead of paying me the slightly less than half amount he asked to pay, he instead pays me the full half of child support. Days later he sends me the full half of spousal support, and another week or so later sends me the second half of child support, paying it in full.

Why even bother asking if he can pay it bi-weekly (remember this will be smaller payments every other week instead of the lump sum) if he’s just going to pay the full amount? My mom thinks it’s all about power. He wants to continue to play games and show everyone that no one is the boss of him. He’ll pay when and what he wants.

I know what everyone is thinking: Garnish his wages! I’ll tell all of you exactly what I told my mom and my brother. I don’t give a shit how he pays me so long as I’m paid in full each month. If he wants to think he’s driving me crazy by not paying until the second half of the month I’ll let him. No sweat off my back. He’d better not be late though because once the last day of the month rolls around with no check I’m going straight to whomever to get that shit garnished. One bounced check? One stopped payment? Garnishment.

Hell, this way he’s actually paying me the full amount. I also know that if I garnish his wages I won’t get as much as I’m getting when he pays me. Plus, I’m always waiting to see what new and fun designs he has for me on my envelopes. It makes my day!

Update: I got the second half of my alimony today! And there were no new images on the check. In fact, there was nothing on the check except my name. The memo line read simply: Alimony.

I wonder if he’s finally tired of playing games. Or maybe he’s given up trying to get a reaction out of me. Perhaps he is finally resigned to his fate.

Mark your calendars, folks. This is two months in a row that he has paid in full. That hasn’t happened since before he lost his job.

His Vengeance Will Be Felt By All!

I have been very bad at writing regularly. Truthfully I am always tired. I don’t have seasonal affect disease or whatever they call it, where you get all depressed during the winter months due to lack of sunshine. I do, however, have an uncanny ability to sleep the minute it gets dark. Seriously, it could be 2:30 in the afternoon and if you turned all the lights down and put me in a dark room I would probably fall asleep. So the winter with it’s shorter days is not a good time for me. I come home, it’s dark, I have to cook dinner. It doesn’t help that I’ve been scheduled to close a lot lately, so I don’t get off until 5:45 (6:15 on Fridays if I’m closing). I even had one day where I got called to close one of our in store branches which doesn’t close until 7. My weekends have been kind of busy so I sometimes end up grocery shopping after work some days which means I’m home even later. By the time I’m done with dinner it’s dark and I’m ready to relax. For some reason whenever I start to read or write I feel my eyes getting heavy and I’m ready to sleep. Then the mobster calls and I’m up for a few hours. Maybe I should start writing posts while I’m on the phone with him.

Remember the text heard ‘round the world a few weeks ago? It was the one to his sister where he pretty much threatened her for nothing other than remaining in my life, and that of his kids. She didn’t badmouth him. I think she might have said Harley deserved whatever crap came her way. Aside from that there was nothing bad in what we wrote.

Remember Bob? Remember how he unfriended Bob and sent him a strongly worded message? Bob would not tell me what he said under the guise of, “I’ve never told him what we’ve said so I can’t betray his confidence and tell you what he told me.” Alrighty. I won’t point out that CF doesn’t need to be told what we’ve said because he hacked into my Facebook and therefore can see everything we’ve said. Go ahead and try to be fair to all.

Remember CF’s cousin? The one who reached out to me to tell me she was sorry for opening a can of worms? The one who did nothing aside from offer support? The one who said CF was family and it wasn’t her business what happened between us? Let’s call her Jane.

Bob contacted me a few weeks ago, probably right around the time CF threatened his sister, to let me know that CF had unfriended Jane.

I finally asked Bob if CF had threatened him after sharing with him what had been said to CF’s sister. Bob admitted that CF had issued a veiled threat. No threat was issued to Jane. In fact, she had had no idea CF had unfriended her until Bob told her about the things that had transpired between him and CF.

Even better? Harley unfriended Jane, too! She and Jane are cousins as well. What was Jane’s sin? I guess it was not hating me. She offered me sympathy for all I had been through. She never once said a bad thing about CF or Harley. She simply commiserated with me and gave me an open invitation to visit her whenever. She gave me advice on my kids and how they were coping, and offered me advice on post divorce life. She did tell CF once that divorce ended our relationship but it didn’t end his relationship with his kids.

Apparently, not only is the enemies list a very exclusive list but also the list of friends is very exclusive. It also comes with many conditions. The first one being: You must always acknowledge Sam is an absolutely terrible, no good, horrible person who must be maligned and destroyed!

I am back to the conclusion once again that he is simply batshit crazy. He’s a miserable person at his core. Now he no longer has me as an excuse for his misery; I’m no longer holding him back. Yet, he’s still miserable. That’s his default setting. It’s the only place he feels comfortable. So now the things I’m doing post divorce must be the cause of all his problems. It’s always me, folks! Never him. Never his behavior.

Have fun stalking me and banishing everyone who doesn’t hate me. Glad I can give your life purpose once again. That must be one fragile house you’ve built if you can’t stand to have anyone around who doesn’t completely agree with you 100% in every aspect.

He Made Me Breakfast

I was debating between writing about the mobster or CF. How could there even be a contest? The mobster all the way!

We were fortunate enough to be able to get away and spend another weekend together. This time we took Columbus by storm. We had many great moments but one of the standouts had to have been Saturday morning when I got out of the shower and smelled breakfast. I was in the shower, folks; it was not me cooking! I went downstairs and there he was, frying eggs for breakfast sandwiches.

Twenty years and not once did CF ever make me breakfast. If he did make me breakfast it was so long ago I have forgotten it. The mobster was amazed. “He didn’t make you breakfast on Mother’s Day?” I had to laugh at that. No, most Mother’s Days were spent wrangling my kids and taking them with me to my mom’s while he stayed at home relaxing by himself.

What else did we do, you ask? We had pizza on Friday night. We went with Hawaiian because we both like it and our kids don’t. Saturday we stopped for coffee at Dunkin’ Donuts and then we walked around downtown. He thinks I should tell everyone the “funny” story about me having to pee in the corner of a parking garage because we couldn’t find a public restroom. I don’t. We decided to find little oddities in downtown Columbus. Our first find was the site of where the very first Wendy’s was built.  Next up? We decided to try to find the statue of Arnold Schwarzenegger at the convention center. We succeeded.

We saw hordes of people crossing the street and found out there had been a huge march going on. We asked one of the people what they were protesting (we were curious) and some snotty little 20 something replied, “We’re for women’s rights,” as though we must be the most stupid people on the planet. Screw you! Just for that I’m against women’s rights! Not really, but her delivery needs some work. There were quite a few interesting signs. We kind of lost our car which was parked at a meter. The mobster wanted to find a geocache but I told him I thought it was a little more important that we find the car. I remembered we were parked by a few banks so we pulled them up on Google in order to map out our route. Finally, as we walked back to the car we saw a sign about the Underground Railroad.

I loved the sign because it’s opening line was something along the lines of: The Underground Railroad was neither a railroad, nor underground. I am especially fond of that because when Rock Star was in middle school she turned to me one day after school and asked, “Did you know the Underground Railroad wasn’t underground, and it wasn’t an actual railroad?” I did, but apparently enough people are unfamiliar with it that they need to spell it out.

Saturday night we went to The Melting Pot. We couldn’t get reservations until 9:15, which I thought was terribly late. Yet we ended up not leaving the restaurant until after midnight! Talk about your leisurely dinner. Then we took a walk around the shopping center before heading back to our Air BnB.

Sunday we opted for something completely different. We went to church, followed by lunch at O’Charley’s, and then off to the art museum.

It certainly wasn’t your typical list of things to do but we had a good time. I got to see an actual Monet which was cool.

The museum closed at five so we planned on heading back home then. I drove him to his car and we decided to head back to Dunkin’ Donuts for another coffee. We ended up talking for another hour and a half!

So there you have it. Another lovely weekend for the books. I’ll write about good ol’ CF and BSC in another entry. Stay tuned!

Here are a few other fun pictures from the museum:

Life imitates art.

Probably the coolest thing I saw at the museum:

Same picture. The one on the left is what you see in front of you. The one on the right is what you see when you take a picture with your flash. Below is the explanation.

Finally, a picture of the mobster with the snowman he made me on his way to see me.

Which Woman Do You Want To Be?

Through reading various blogs and their comments I came across an other woman’s blog. Nothing unique or special about it. She did say something though that had me shaking my head. I’m going to paraphrase but it was basically: If I had to choose between being the other woman or being the deceived, bitter wife I would choose to be the other woman every time. I get to move on with my life, while the betrayed wife is stuck working it out with a cheater.

That’s funny because I thought to myself I would much rather be the duped and betrayed wife every time. Yes, what my kids and I went through was absolutely horrible. I don’t ever want to go through that again. But unlike that fine, upstanding OW, I would never want to inflict that kind of damage on another person’s life. Ever. I would take being cheated on any day over being the entitled, narcissistic sociopath that would choose to purposefully hurt another woman and her family.

I was also struck by her generalization that the OW gets to move on with her life, no hassles at all, while the wife is stuck working it out with the cheating husband, always wondering if he was at it again or pining for his mistress.

Does she not realize sometimes the OW wins “the prize”? She’s then stuck with a cheater herself. It’s that old adage: When a man marries his mistress he creates a vacancy.

Oh, I’m sure plenty of the mistresses who end up with the sparkly turd whole-heartedly believe he will never do that to her; they are super duper special and their vaginas have magical powers. He will never cheat on her, he will never complain about her, and he will never find her lacking in any way! No, she is definitely completely different from that ex-wife he lied to and cheated on; she is special in ways that the ex-wife could only dream about.

Of course, there are those mistresses who do realize their precious prize is a cheater, and while they’ll never admit it they definitely keep him on a very short leash. That sounds exhausting.

My favorite stories involve situations where the cheaters stay together, unhappily ever after. They know they’ve fucked up but they also know they’ve got an image to maintain. If they divorce it will only prove they ruined a family or two for nothing more than a few romps in the hay. It’s image management, baby! They will stay together come Hell or high water. Bring on the anti-depressants and the drinking problem! This is love, dammit!

Sometimes the wife (or husband- I’m using wife because it was an OW writing this, not an OM) doesn’t stick around and put up with his shit. Sometimes she kicks his ass to the curb and creates a new life for herself. Prime example? Chump Lady herself.

It took her a couple of attempts, but she finally did it. Now she’s married to a fabulous man, has a successful blog, a published book, another book coming, and a possible movie. The OW? She’s an alcoholic waiting on this guy who has strung her along over 20 years and at least 3 marriages to finally promote her from side piece to wife. Yep, sounds like she’s the winner in that triangle.

Look at my own situation. I forgave him the first time. I didn’t make that mistake again. I hightailed it down to a lawyer’s within two days of finding out he was cheating again.

Harley was riding high for a while. It was like winning the lottery in the beginning. All that money handed to her without hesitation. Her standard of living increasing 100%. Then he lost his job because of the drinking and she was forced to support him. For ten months. Finally he gets another job, and once again it seems like things are going great. He moves the new family into a swanky little subdivision. It was probably the nicest house she had ever lived in. Unfortunately,  he’s making a whole lot less, and the two nitwits made all their financial decisions without a final ruling in the divorce case. Now he has to pay his ex-wife approximately 2/3 of his paycheck and they’re stuck with a very expensive rent payment. It looks like once again Harley is going to have to bear the brunt of the financial struggle.

These two financial wizards blow through money like it grows on trees so I doubt either one has given much thought to the future and what retirement will bring. He’s lost half his pension. When it’s all said and done my guess is he will have given me around 70% or more of his 401k; he had to pay out almost $55,000 in arrears alone and that all comes out of his share.

I have a new life with a fabulous man that treats me wonderfully. We have amazing adventures together and I’m deliriously happy with him. Meanwhile, according to his own testimony Harley has to drive CF around, he’s unable to cope with being out in public or going to crowded places, and his attention isn’t focused on Harley and all her wonderfulness; he’s much too concerned with spying on and harassing me and those who are in contact with me. As my friend K told her ex’s wife one day after repeated trips to court, “I’m sorry things are going so badly at home between you two.” When the new wife indignantly replied that things were just peachy K smiled sweetly and told her, “Really? Because if my husband spent as much time trying to fuck his ex as your husband spends trying to fuck me there would definitely be a problem!”

There you go, Harley! There’s your prize. A raging, lying, cheating sociopath who is descending into madness. He’s so caught up in me and my life I bet he doesn’t even sit around the dinner table day dreaming about what the future holds for the two of you. Is he back to secluding himself in the bedroom, watching TV all of the time? Lucky you! You won!

No, I definitely would not choose to be the other woman. I have a soul. I know right from wrong. Unlike the author of the blog I perused I also realize there is no winning when you are the other woman. You’re either lied to and used as his convenient side piece and your heart is broken, or you end up with a man who lies to and cheats on his wife. No thank you.

More Musings On His Delusional Text

I’m not going to dwell on this too much because it doesn’t deserve anymore of my time. There were a few things I wanted to touch on though, and I know the original post was getting quite long. I thought it would be much easier to break it up into at least two posts.

The mobster was losing his shit when I first told him about this. He was all set to call him and tell him to knock it off. He wanted me to march down to the police department and file a restraining order as well. He even thought about filing one.

I explained that none of that would make a difference. If anything it would either a. inflame the situation even further, or b. just give him a huge amount of kibbles. He’s not central in my life. Why let him think he is?

My brother was a lot more restrained and I think that helped to reign in the mobster. Document, document, document. Oh, he did tell me I need to get my license to carry and buy a gun and start going to the range. That’s on my To Do list for the weekend. It looks like this:

1. Put my clothes away
2. Do laundry (yes, those really are two separate things and I can stand to put clothes away before I actually do laundry)
3. Get my liquor license so I can bartend on weekends
4. Pick up the house
5. Write a couple blog posts
6. Do something with my kids
7. Get my license to carry
8. Buy a gun
9. Respond to blog comments and FB messages

Fun stuff, huh?

Maybe I’m stupid or sticking my head in the sand, but I’m really not that worried. He hasn’t seen his kids in almost 2 years. He supposedly can’t drive once again, according to his court testimony. He can only drive 6 hours for pussy and murder? I doubt it. Pussy? Obviously. Murder? He’s too lazy to make the effort.

My sister-in-law did talk to a retired police officer she knows about the situation and I’ve been told I can file a report for the harassment he’s been doing, and then seek a no contact order through the courts. I was a little surprised because the rant was to his sister, not me. He didn’t seem overly concerned or think that I was in imminent danger.

My brother has said pretty much the same thing. As long as he’s with Harley I should be safe. If Harley dumps him once the money runs out he thinks I might want to keep a closer watch over my shoulder.

I’ve always thought that if he was going to try to kill me (yes, it has crossed my mind- I used to watch a lot of ID TV) that he would either shoot me from a distance, or he would hire someone. I remember him telling me stories of how he had shot people in Iraq from quite some distance, and much like he’s practically a Ranger, he’s also practically a trained sniper. And a hired hit man? Well, it certainly keeps his hands clean. He is the smartest man you’ll ever come across so he undoubtedly would believe that would be a fail proof plan. My brother, however, doesn’t think CF would try to shoot me from some distance away; nor does he think he would hire someone. If it ever comes to that he believes it will be up close and personal. He’ll either shoot me or potentially stab me. Either way it will be face to face. Or so he believes. Which is why I’m supposed to get a gun and carry it with me at all times. And spend plenty of time at the range.

I also contacted my lawyer to let her know what was going on and to get her opinion. I let her know I had proof he was the one who hacked my account. I told her about the email lists I’m pretty sure he’s signing me up for. I told her about the message to his sister and read a few key parts. She asked me if I was afraid for my life and I told her I wasn’t. She said she could send an email to his attorney and tell her I was going to file a police report if he didn’t knock it off, but that I would be tipping my hand. He probably wouldn’t stop; he would just go further underground and not contact anyone he knew I was communicating with. If he really was going to come after me it would be best if he was doing everything in the open, none the wiser, and I could keep an eye on him somewhat, at least through other people.

Having spent a good many years watching Criminal Minds, and reading books about killers, I am also well aware that people can become unhinged after a stressor in their life. With Tammy Faye being sick and almost dying I do sometimes worry that the loss of his mother will send him around the bend. It’s not an overwhelming fear, but the thought is there. I will be vigilant if it happens.

I know he’s concocted this alternate reality where I’m the villain and he’s the victim. I’m a money hungry, parental alienating monster that emotionally abused him, dismissed his mental health issues, treated him like an ATM machine, and never loved him or took care of him. I pretty much drove him into Harley’s arms. And now I’m destroying another woman’s happy home, causing their children endless amounts of pain because I’ve decided to steal their father for my very own.

Most of it I shrug off. I know the truth. I also know that trying to defend myself against his wild, delusional accusations will all be for naught. He is always the victim. He’s done nothing wrong.

I know that his sister did not help me. We had maybe four or five conversations throughout the entire divorce. I clearly remember the first one because it was right after she sent me the message telling me she would always consider me family, and her saying that all he had told her was that I had filed for divorce and he didn’t know why. You can bet your ass I called her up and set the record straight. Oh hell no! He was not going to get to act like the victim.

I remember talking to her at least one other time where she told me he had told her I had thrown all of his things away and I refused to let him take anything from the house.

Aside from that it was a random, “Happy New Year” or “Merry Christmas” or “Happy Mother’s Day” text. Hardly earth shattering and ultimate betrayal type stuff. Certainly not bad enough to be put on a very exclusive enemies list!

She told him from the beginning that he was going to pay a very steep price for leaving me after twenty years of marriage and me being a stay at home mom who had followed him all over the country. I already knew that; it was certainly nothing she clued me in to. I had talked to a lawyer two days after finding out what he was up to. I knew what I was entitled to. He’s the one that didn’t believe her. He’s the one that didn’t do his homework and then lied to his attorney so he wasn’t given the full picture of what he would be paying.

I don’t regret my relationship with the mobster at all. I do regret the fact that I gave Cousinfucker even a tiny little opening to assuage his guilt, if it can even be called that. Sociopaths don’t have guilt.

He can use the fact that two years after he’s caught cheating on me I am finally with someone who treats me the way he should have all those years, and try to twist it as though I’m doing the exact same thing he did. Between him and Batshit Crazy they can convince themselves that I’m a man stealing home wrecker. He can try to sell this idea that I deserved every shitty thing he did to me because I’m a home wrecking whore, not some innocent victim.

It bothers me a little bit. Because I have a conscience! But overall, I’m good. I know the truth. I know that both of us were living separately from our cheating spouses who were living with their affair partners. I know that both of us were already into the divorce process before we met.

Unlike CF and Harley I never posted about me and the mobster on social media. I never talked about our relationship to anyone who knew CF. I was perfectly content for the mobster to be a secret from CF forever. Let him think I was miserable and alone. He found out about it when he hacked my Facebook page. Sadly, short of me refusing to entertain the thought of any contact with another male for the almost 2 1/2 years it took for my divorce to be final, there was nothing I could have done. When we started texting I never planned for it to turn into what it did; I had no intentions of this turning into a relationship. I figured we would text a few times and that would be it. It would be platonic and probably short lived, seeing as how all it was was texting. I suppose that’s what CF thought I deserved- to be alone forever, pining for him and mourning the loss of my old life.

Believe me- I did pine. Never for him because I was done with him after he cheated again. I did mourn the loss of my old life. I mourned what happened to my children. I freaked out over my financial situation, especially considering Mr. Genius didn’t think paying support was a necessity. In the end though I did as Winston Churchill advised: I found myself in Hell and I just kept going. He can’t stand the fact that I didn’t fall apart, that he wasn’t able to destroy me. I think he’s really pissed that I have found someone else and that I’m happy. I think he wanted me to be alone and miserable for the rest of my life. Now that he realizes that’s not going to happen he’s enraged. I’m sure the fact that I won’t keep my mouth shut doesn’t help matters either.

Yes, I’ve poked the bear a bit. You know what? I’m going to keep poking when I feel like it. I’m going to keep posting my happy pictures of me and the mobster. CF and Harley got to do it for two years while I was living a nightmare. They were told constantly how happy they looked and how they deserved it. Happiness looks good on you! Love you both! You deserve happiness. Those were all comments I got to see, made to the two people who were engaged and living together, having demolished my life and the lives of my kids. Now it’s my turn. Suck it, buttercup! If you don’t want to see the happy couple then stay off my Facebook page.

I’m also going to text him next Wednesday if I don’t have a check by then. If he gets shitty with me? He’s going to get a text very similar to this:

Your behavior has caused me to repeatedly have to take legal action in order to get you to do the right thing. I would think what with you being a genius and all that you would be able to foresee the consequences of your poor behavior. 

I realize you don’t see it this way but I have been a dream ex-wife. I didn’t publicly out you or toss you out of the house. I don’t harass you. I don’t contact you. I have left you alone to live out your ultimate fantasy- living with your soul mate/cousin who brings you so much happiness, at one point working side by side with your best friend, and residing in Kentucky near your mommy and your sister so you can see them anytime you want. 

You wanted to pay bi-weekly instead of in a monthly lump sum; I agreed even though I didn’t need to. I have never demanded payment on the due date, or even harangued you for payment. And yet you continue to try to play games. You continue to try to mess with me, and by extension, your children. Very well. I can see that I will once again have to be the adult and put an end to this silliness. When your employer contacts you to let you know that you have a garnishment order against you, remember you brought this upon yourself.

That’s really what this all comes down to, doesn’t it? He’s pissed that he has to pay me sufficient support instead of that $1500/month bullshit he wanted.

So why am I not surprised that you support a disgusting whore and aided her in getting the maximum money possible from me.

Why do I not get the full credit for having made sure he paid the maximum money possible? And, not to pick but I do feel the need to make a point of clarification: I did not get the maximum amount possible. We asked for $4000 in spousal support alone; I got $2800. The judge could have imputed his wages at $236,000; he ignored the bonus and stock options and imputed at $170,000.

She never helped me with anything! Certainly not in obtaining “the maximum money possible”! She didn’t act as a character witness for me. She didn’t feed me incriminating information. She didn’t disown him. She simply remained in my life because she loves my kids.

No, he’s just mad because the judge didn’t buy his bullshit. He’s angry because he and Harley might feel the pinch finally, and the party is over. How dare I let him feel the impact of this divorce? How dare anyone hold him accountable for his shitty decisions and poor choices?

You know the really sad part? He did all of this because he deserved to be happy. In the end I’m the happy one. I had accepted that he might get away with financial rape. I had sadly accepted the fact that my lifestyle has taken a huge hit. As the mobster would ask, “Are we going to be happy?” The answer was a resounding, “Yes!” We’re going to live in that cardboard box and we’re going to beg on the streets and go for coffee later and we’re still going to be happy, because we’re together.

Compare that to CF and Harley. Together they bring home over $11,000 plus whatever she gets for child support. I don’t think it’s out of the realm of possibility that they have around $12,000/month to call their own. Once he pays me they still have at least $6700 left over (and I’m not counting her child support which she will get for at least another 8 years; I’m also not counting the times he gets paid three times a month). He still bitches and whines. Yes, he has to pay me a very large chunk of his salary. For now.

Why not look at it like this? First of all, he will get a “pay raise” in June and he will have anywhere from $400-$800 more to call his own. Conversely I will have $400-$800 LESS to call my own. In another three years he will be completely finished with child support and will be paying only $2800/month, or $1292.31 every other week. Meanwhile, I’m sure good ol’ Harley will get annual increases in salary. CF will get annual increases in salary, if he doesn’t flat out get another job. Sure, I can get an annual increase as well but seeing as how I make a fifth of what he makes and around a fourth of what she makes, it stands to reason my salary isn’t going to increase as quickly. Regardless, even if everything stayed the same, in a little over three years they would be living on approximately $8400/month while I live on less than $3600/month. Which one of us should be whining about money? I’m pretty sure it should be me but I’m not. He should be doing the happy dance but he’s not.

Second of all, does the genius not realize he can go out and get another job making up to $170,000 and it won’t affect his support at all? He was imputed at that income! If he were willing to move he could easily make anywhere from $1000-$3000 more per month and that would all go in his pocket. Or at least the family coffers.

The fact he made poor financial decisions throughout this entire process is not my problem. I guess he thought he would take it all and I would be left with nothing. Hey, according to him I wasn’t smart enough to figure out where the vast majority of the money was so he should be happy, right?

Joke’s on you, Cousinfucker; I don’t care if you squirreled money away. You’re still a miserable human being who will never be satisfied. You blew up an entire family for your happiness and you’re still unhappy. I’m living a whole different life and living on a whole lot less money but I’m the one who is happy. I’ve got my kids, my family and friends, my mobster, and my freedom. I’m good. No, I’m great. Suck it, you evil bastard.

 

Another Glorious Weekend

Let’s lighten the mood a little bit after the excitement and death threats from the other day. 

Sorry, folks. I can’t stop gushing about him. I know; you come here to read my tale of woe and instead you get this sickeningly sweet replay of our weekend. I’ll try to do better.

We met in Appalachian country; it was beautiful. We stayed in an Air BnB, which was quaint and cozy. Our hosts were really nice.

Friday was almost a disaster. Picasso was going hunting with my brother that week-end. He didn’t bother to pack his clothes so he could walk over to his uncle’s after school, which I found out after texting him at school. He also informed me he needed to do laundry before he could pack. So I ran home, threw a load of clothes in and got ready for work.

I was supposed to get off work at 11:30. I got off closer to 11:50. My mom called to tell me Rock Star’s car didn’t need an alignment; it needed $1000 worth of repairs and it was a safety issue.

Instead of leaving for the weekend I headed back home to drop off my credit card. I’ve already racked up over $1000 in charges, putting new tires on both my car and Rock Star’s car. What’s another thousand, especially when CF doesn’t bother to pay child support?

Then it turned out they couldn’t get the car in until Tuesday so I hadn’t needed to head back to the house anyway.

There was a wreck on a 7 mile stretch of interstate that I was supposed to be on. This was going to be a twenty minute delay, according to Google maps. It re-routed me but it still took what felt like forever.

Finally, I made it to the town I was going to! I stopped to go to the bathroom and get a drink. When I got back in my car all Hell broke loose.

I got the message from my mom about me posting I’m in a relationship. I texted Rock Star to ask her if she’d done it. Texted the mobster to see if he had done it. I’m getting phone calls. My mom. My daughter. My mobster. All while I’m trying to find the place I’m staying at, out in the middle of nowhere.

I missed a turn while I was on the phone with Rock Star. I got re-routed. I still couldn’t find it. I was almost hyperventilating. I was cursing the invention of these damn Air BnBs and swearing we were going to stay at big chain hotels with large neon signs you can see from outer space from now on. I wanted to call the mobster and have him come pick me up but I had no idea where I was. It was pitch black. No lights. Middle of nowhere. No landmarks. I couldn’t read the street signs. Plus, he wasn’t there yet.

I finally found it and it was delightful. A short while later the mobster showed up with pizza in hand. All was well with the world again.

Can you believe we were up at 6:30 the next morning? We ate breakfast at the diner we met at the second time we got together in person. It was delicious. Banana stuffed French toast with cream cheese filling, hash browns, bacon for me and ham for him.

 

 

 

 

After that we walked around the town, found a geocache, and then went for pedicures.

Can you believe it? The mobster went with me and got a pedicure. He even liked it. Actually what he said was that it was kind of weird at first but he would do it again. And he kept marveling at how soft his feet felt.

In exchange I went to Goodwill with him. He likes to find things and put them on eBay to resell.

Finally we headed up to a winery. We tasted the various wines made there, got a glass for each of us, ordered some appetizers and talked.

 

 

 

 

The food was very good- all homemade. The owner of the vineyard was very talkative and friendly. And there was a group of ladies sitting near us who were having a very loud and very interesting conversation. Yes, we eavesdropped. They were very loud. Plus there’s just something about the word prison that makes your ears perk up.

It was getting windy and dark but we still decided to go out on the massive deck and look around. Again, it was simply beautiful out there.

The place really started to fill up around 4:30, probably because they serve a homemade Italian dinner every Friday and Saturday night. Chef’s choice.

That night she was making veggie stuffed mushrooms over a bed of orzo pasta covered in marinara sauce, and a pork tenderloin stuffed with rosemary and feta, covered in apple chutney. Both were served with asparagus and the pork tenderloin came with baby red potatoes.

We decided to order one of each and split them. This is huge for me because I don’t like to share my food.

My mother delights in telling the story of how I ordered dessert one time and she made the comment that it looked really good. I told her it was and kept eating. When I finished she looked at me incredulously and exclaimed, “I can’t believe you ate that whole thing and didn’t offer me a bite!” To which I replied, “I didn’t know you wanted one!” Apparently, “That looks good,” is not merely an observation but code for, “I’d like a bite.”

My brothers are 6’3 and 6’4. Big guys. I’m not even 5’4. They brought me home Burger King one day. I’m happily eating away when I notice they don’t have fries. Curious, I ask one of them, “Why didn’t you get fries?”” It turns out they didn’t get me fries. When I asked them why they didn’t just tell me I was eating their fries they looked at me and said, “There was no way we were getting between you and your food.”

But I shared with the mobster. It worked out beautifully. I did like the pork tenderloin more than the veggie stuffed mushroom but I’m glad I got to have both. We also ordered both desserts (Death by Chocolate cake and a fruit covered cheesecake) and took those to go. We were both stuffed.

On our final day we went to another diner for breakfast and then wandered the streets, browsed in shops and found two more geocaches. We had thought about going to a state park to explore caves and see a waterfall but it was too cold and windy and we just didn’t have enough time. It was nice being together. We looked at a bunch of humorous Christmas cards in one of the bookstores and we laughed and laughed. We bought matching magnets for our refrigerators. I can’t find mine. I hope it isn’t lost forever. Update: I found it! It was in my purse. Hooray!

Another weekend wrapped up! We’ll see each other next time at Rock Star’s first cheer competition. I’m looking forward to it. It will be almost like a family outing. He might bring his daughter, too.

Until next time!

Update: Obviously I thought I was going to be able to post this before freaking December. As it turns out, thanks to my trolls I went to my daughter’s competition alone. No big meet up.

Aaaannnnd… He’s Lost His Ever Loving Mind

I’m going to be honest. I was going to post this last night but I had already written Banging My Head Against a Brick Wall, and after what I’m going to post tonight there’s no way in hell I will ever be willing to help that sociopath get closer to my children.

He has lost his damn mind. Seriously! According to the one sister of his that I still occasionally talk to she has been reaching out to him all this time and he has been rebuffing her efforts. He has closed her off because she’s not telling him he’s wonderful and he had every right to toss his wife and kids aside for his side piece ho. According to her she told him he was going to lose his ass in this divorce. He didn’t believe her. She has told him repeatedly that she doesn’t agree with what he did or how he went about it, and she certainly doesn’t approve of what he’s done to his kids by walking away.

Now I will admit I have been poking the bear somewhat. Only in the sense that the bear would have to be actively looking for me. Okay, full disclosure. Once the divorce was final I changed my name on Facebook and announced to the world of Facebook precisely what he did- namely that he cheated on me after moving across the country, that he moved out of the house without saying a word to his kids, and that we lost everything thanks to him. That’s the very condensed version.

Again, the bear would have to be checking out my Facebook page. Oh yeah, did I mention I set that post to “Public”? I did. I decided that if the bear wants to snoop, the bear is going to get an eyeful.

His sister replied to that post and basically said no one deserved to be treated the way that the kids and I had been treated.

Over the next few days I again publicly posted some pictures of the mobster and me. Some with all of us. I even posted that I was in a relationship with him. Again, his sister replied and congratulated me.

Less than a week ago we were messaging through Facebook. It was fairly benign stuff. Again she told me how she disagreed with how he had handled things. We talked about her new life, the mobster, things having to do with the divorce.

Then last night she calls me and tells me she got a delusional, ranting message from him. She wasn’t kidding. I swear to God, he is losing it. What follows is some of the most disordered crap I’ve ever heard out of him.

Some people would be surprised by the complete and utter betrayal of a family member. I on the other hand would expect nothing less from you. I mean it is a fact that you abandoned me as a child of 5 all alone while running off to Florida. It is a fact that your ex-husband did federal prison time for trafficking cocaine and you had no issue with that. It is fact that you stole a car from your father after he delivered it to you in Atlanta. It is fact that you held up the estate of your father for pure greed and lust for money that was not yours. You know that tile is bullshit. So why am I not surprised that you support a disgusting whore and aided her in getting the maximum money possible from me. You never asked my side of the events, you only saw that maybe you could get some money out of her. Good luck. She is smarter than you. I hope you enjoy your victory. Never doubt what I am capable of. Never doubt that neither of you was smart enough to find the vast majority of what you were looking for. I am the smartest person you will ever come across. And now you have joined the list of my enemies. That is a very exclusive list. Rot in hell bitch. I will finish you off as well!!

Oh and by the way the cunt you are supporting is now engaged in an adulterous relationship with her boyfriend. He is not divorced. He hasn’t even filed. So all the bad done to her… boo hoo… is now being perpetuated on another family.

I hope you can sleep at night. Better learn how to accomplish that with one eye open. My vengeance will be felt by all.

Feel free to use a dictionary to translate some of the words here. I tried to dumb it down as much as possible, but there is only so much a genius can do to speak to the plebes.

He’s insane! I mean, seriously, insane. Who in the hell goes around telling people that they are the smartest person you will ever come across?

Let’s take a closer look, shall we?

Some people would be surprised by the complete and utter betrayal of a family member. I on the other hand would expect nothing less from you.

Yes, because we all know how much family means to you. On one hand, you like to fuck your cousin. On the other hand, you’ve abandoned your kids. I wonder how they label what you’ve done to them?

I mean it is a fact that you abandoned me as a child of 5 all alone while running off to Florida. It is a fact that your ex-husband did federal prison time for trafficking cocaine and you had no issue with that. It is fact that you stole a car from your father after he delivered it to you in Atlanta. It is fact that you held up the estate of your father for pure greed and lust for money that was not yours. You know that tile is bullshit.

It is a fact that 78% of all NFL players are bankrupt two years after finishing their careers. It is a fact that male koalas have two penises. It is a fact that a snail can sleep for more than three years at a time.

So why am I not surprised that you support a disgusting whore and aided her in getting the maximum money possible from me.

Oh hell no! You did not just go there. I’m a disgusting whore? I think you’re describing your cousin, your sister, and your mother. Take that plank out of your own eye, dude!

You never asked my side of the events, you only saw that maybe you could get some money out of her. Good luck. She is smarter than you.

Well, thanks for that. At least I’m smarter than her! But why on earth would she ever think I would be giving her money? That’s your paranoia. You’re not rational.

While we’re dissecting this small piece of mental instability I’d like to point out that you’re lying again. You’ve told her countless versions of your truth. Don’t you remember telling her I filed for divorce and you had no idea why? Or telling her I put all of your things in black trash bags and took them out to the curb to put in the trash? Or that I refused to let you take anything from the house? She has repeatedly reached out to you and you’ve had plenty of opportunity to tell her “your side” of events. All of which, I’m sure, boils down to: Waaaah! My mean ex-wife had a public Facebook page where she wrote her feelings about my whore and my family after I betrayed her. Can you believe she wouldn’t just forget everything and act like nothing had happened?

I hope you enjoy your victory. Never doubt what I am capable of.

Is it just me or is that a threat?

Never doubt that neither of you was smart enough to find the vast majority of what you were looking for.

Well good! I’m sure your lawyer would love to hear that while you pay her a measly $50 a week to get current you are sitting on a vast pile of wealth. Would I be correct in assuming that you will no longer whine about poverty and how you can’t possibly pay me what has been ordered? I mean, afterall, you are so smart and you managed to tuck so much away. I’m sure the judge would love to hear about all the money you pilfered away as well. I’m not nearly as smart as you but I’m very certain that when the opposing counsel asks for documents in discovery and you decline to provide them you are breaking the law. So keep up the bragging. At some point you’re either going to end up in jail or you’re going to have to eat your words.

I’m also thinking that lust for money you accused your sister of is a bit of projection on your part. You’re just pissed because you’ve got to pay me more than you wanted to.

I am the smartest person you will ever come across.

Again, who says crap like this?

And now you have joined the list of my enemies. That is a very exclusive list. Rot in hell bitch. I will finish you off as well!!

Ah, another threat! Fear the enemies list! It is, however, quite exclusive so pat yourself on the back for achieving such a high honor.

Oh and by the way the cunt you are supporting is now engaged in an adulterous relationship with her boyfriend. He is not divorced. He hasn’t even filed. So all the bad done to her… boo hoo… is now being perpetuated on another family.

First of all, FUCK YOU with your “so all the bad done to her… boo hoo…” bullshit. Bad was done to me. You did it, you arrogant fuck.

Second, you are once again talking out of your ass. Yes, according to Virginia law I’m in an adulterous relationship. However, I will once again point out for those who aren’t victim morphing psychopaths, that his wife LEFT HIM. She had been cheating on him for months. She had been disappearing for days at a time before this. She moved in with her boyfriend. Much like the ex with whom I deal she walked out of the house without saying a word to her kids.

Furthermore, he was all set to get divorced ahead of schedule. Talked to her about going through a “do it yourself” divorce. She agreed. All that needed to be done was for her to sign the property settlement agreement. They had someone willing to swear that they had been separated for a year. When it came time to sign the papers, she wouldn’t do it. So yes, he has filed. He has paid an attorney to draw all this crap up. I’ve seen the damn text messages between the two of them where he’s asking her to sign, asking her what she wants, and she just ignores it. She’s as disordered as Cousinfucker. No wonder they’re such great friends.

I am NOT like you. I am not like Harley. I have not done a damn thing to another family. He was never fucking around behind her back with me. My “husband” was living in another state with his precious whore cousin when I met the mobster.

You know the funny thing? When it was obvious that things were going to get serious between me and the mobster I told him two things. First, I told him she would be sniffing around once again when she realized he was involved with someone else. Secondly, I told him it wouldn’t surprise me one bit if she started trying to sell this bullshit story of me being the other woman and they would be happily reconciled if not for me.

I hope you can sleep at night. Better learn how to accomplish that with one eye open. My vengeance will be felt by all.

BAER. Yet another threat. Blah, blah, blah. Vengeance is mine… blah, blah, blah. Try another line, you whiny baby.

Feel free to use a dictionary to translate some of the words here. I tried to dumb it down as much as possible, but there is only so much a genius can do to speak to the plebes.

Off the rails much? Hey, I don’t begrudge you your moment of superiority.

Do you need a dictionary to look that word up, genius?

Banging My Head Against a Brick Wall

I have deliberated long and hard about attempting to contact Cousinfucker in an effort to help him repair his relationship with his kids. I suppose part of it is because “everyone” says kids need both parents. Oh the damage that will reign down if they have an absentee parent! Another part I’m sure is the need to make sure I’m not standing in the way or unduly influencing the kids. I don’t want them to think I will be upset if they have a relationship with their dad. Honestly, I don’t think either of them even want one with him after all that he’s done. But, if I did reach out I think this is what I would say:

If you truly desire to be a part of your kids’ lives then MAKE AN EFFORT. When asked your son said he wouldn’t turn you away if you actually made the drive up here and asked him to go do something with you. He said that would show an actual effort on your part, not some bullshit move like sending a card or a gift through the mail. That takes no effort. He wants to see you try. He wants to know he matters.

Get in your damn car and make the 6 hour drive up here to see your kids. You could drive 6 hours each way every weekend for 6 months to see your whore. Don’t tell me you can’t manage one weekend a month for your own children.

And yes, Rock Star may turn you away but I don’t think Picasso will. He’s already said he wouldn’t. But you refuse to even put forth the effort.

Make a phone call! If they won’t pick up, leave a voice message. Tell them you love them. Tell them you miss them.

I’m sorry to say but you might have to actually lower yourself to begging. Your kids might reject you at first. Deal with it! Keep showing up. Keep trying. Let them see that this is important to you, that they are important to you. You created this mess; you need to fix it. I can’t do that for you; I can only point you in the right direction and hope you listen to the only parent that actually knows them.

Hey, here’s another great idea. Take all that super sleuthing you do to spy on me and try to figure out what I’m up to and use that to figure out what your kids are doing. Show up and surprise them. Or show up and then later tell them you were there and you are proud of them.

If all you can manage is a text? Stop with the pity parties and actually show an interest in them. Rock Star is not interested in how sad you are. As far as she’s concerned you have brought all of this on yourself, so if you’re sad and crying keep it to yourself. Tell Harley and ask her to feel sorry for you and to rub your little head and make it better. Ask your kids what they’re up to. Tell them an interesting story about your own life- not how sad you are, not how great your “new” kids are, not how wonderful the whore is. If it’s true, tell them you miss them. Try telling them you are sorry for what you’ve done. Tell them you are sorry for disrupting their lives. Ask them how you can make it right. Beg them to tell you if there’s anything you can do to repair your relationship with them. Assure them that you still love them. I would tell you to let them know you won’t put your “new” family ahead of them but that would be an outright lie. You’ve chosen them over your own kids every step of the way. So you know what, maybe you need to live with the consequences of that. Maybe you need to speak to a therapist who can help you come to terms with the fact that you have betrayed your children so grievously that you can never make it right again.

I realize this is all in vain. You don’t wish to listen to anything I have to say. I don’t even think you’re really interested in repairing your relationship with your kids; you like to use it as a prop so you can tell everyone what a victim you are. Oh, my awful, evil ex has stolen my children away from me and poisoned their minds. I’ve done nothing except love those children and throw myself at them for years now but their mother’s grip is too tight on them. Of course the real truth is, no matter how much you may actually miss them, you would never lower yourself to beg or make yourself vulnerable to them. So I guess we are at a standstill.

You can continue to play the victim that no one is victimizing in reality, and your kids can get on with their lives, knowing what a coward you are. Good talk, Cousinfucker; good talk!

Stupid Divorce Laws

I wrote this earlier in December but still think it’s worth sharing.

I believe I have shared that in Virginia you have to be separated for a year before you can file for divorce if you have minor children. If you have major children (hahaha) or no children, the wait time is 6 months. There are exceptions for things like adultery, abandonment, maybe abuse. I’m not completely sure, although I do know you can be granted a divorce immediately for adultery. That’s the one that affected me so that’s the one I know for sure. It’s not easy to prove, of course, and you can’t simply show up in court, accuse your spouse of adultery and have them say, “Yep, I’m fucking my secretary (or the pool boy).” No, you must have irrefutable proof. I guess too many people were going that route to get their divorce in a more timely manner so they shot that down. It has to be a third person corroborating the adultery.

Their reasoning is that it prevents people from rushing down and filing for divorce after some petty argument and then later withdrawing the petition. I guess I can see that reasoning, although how many of you have heard of someone getting into an argument over leaving the cap off the toothpaste and then declaring, “That’s it, Stanley! I’m leaving you. I can’t take this capless toothpaste nonsense any longer!”? I don’t know if they have statistics that show divorce rates have fallen dramatically since they instituted this, and honestly, I don’t feel like Googling it.

What I do know is the only reason I was getting support all those months is because my lawyer could file for divorce, citing adultery, so that we could get in front of a judge and have temporary support ordered. For those who don’t have that “luxury” and who are dependent upon the working spouse, how on earth do they support themselves during that year? Granted, arrears are ordered so it would be beneficial for the person paying the support to at least pay something so they’re not hit with a huge payout when the divorce is finally filed, but some people are giant assholes and would be willing to take the hit to stick it to the other person. In my case, CF was voluntarily paying some support, but it wasn’t enough for us to live on.

Here’s another fun fact: even though I could have technically been granted a divorce on the basis of adultery (assuming I could meet the court’s burden of proof) I couldn’t get a property settlement until the one year waiting period was up. How dumb is that?

Also, in Virginia if you commit adultery and you would receive spousal support your spouse no longer has to pay it in most cases if he/she can prove the adultery. Naturally, it’s not as difficult to meet the court’s burden of proof for adultery to get out of paying spousal support as it is to get a divorce. I don’t have a problem with any of that.

I think that if you cheat you shouldn’t get rewarded with your betrayed, humiliated spouse having to pay to support you and your new partner. I am always appalled when I hear stories of (mostly) men who have wives that cheat on them and they then have to pay them substantial alimony after the divorce. It’s just not fair. No, it’s just not right.

This is the part that really gets me though. In Virginia you are married until you are no longer married. They have no legal separation. They define adultery as any sex between yourself and any person not your spouse. So during that one year waiting period? You can’t have sex with anyone else if you are going to be asking for spousal support. Or, at least you better hope you don’t get caught with irrefutable proof. Even after that one year waiting period is up and your papers are filed you are still considered to be committing adultery if you engage in sex with someone else.

At one point in my life I felt that way. I felt that you were married until you were no longer married. If you were separated you shouldn’t be dating. Of course, I felt that way when I was married and smug in my thinking that I wouldn’t ever be faced with that.

Here’s my reality: By his own admission in court, CF had started up his relationship once again with the whore by April or May of 2015. He was sending her money out of our joint checking account starting in June. He was definitely sleeping with her by July. He bought her an engagement ring in September. He quit his job of 15 years, moved out of state without saying a word, and moved in with her in February of 2016.

My papers were filed September 1st of 2015. We had temporary support orders in place by December. We were living in separate states by February of 2016. Our divorce hearing was scheduled for May of 2017. That’s almost 2 years since I learned about his affair. It is two years since he began his affair. I didn’t even know my mobster existed until a few weeks after my original court date. For damn near two years I navigated this whole sucky experience by myself. No one was around to tell me I was pretty or wonderful or amazing. No one told me I was incredibly strong or that they were proud of me for all I had gone through. I didn’t have a replacement husband lined up to support me, or to warm my bed, or even to simply tell me that everything was going to be okay and he would be by my side throughout this whole ordeal.

Cousinfucker can live with and get engaged to his dumb whore but if I have sex he can accuse me of adultery and try to get out of paying spousal support. All because we are married until we’re not. Even after divorce papers have been filed.

Our first divorce hearing was postponed because we had to review his expert witness and secure one of our own. Why? Because he was trying to get out of paying support– both spousal and child.

So now I have to wait until September before I’m divorced. But wait! We get kicked out of our courtroom for a jury trial so now it’s postponed until November.

This whole time he’s living with the whore. They’re having his family over for holidays, going to see her family. Shoot, let’s face it. There is no his and her family. They’re already related. He’s blasting it on Facebook that he’s in a relationship with her. She’s doing the same. They’ve got everyone telling them they look so happy and gosh darn it, you deserve it! He’s running off to support her kids while ignoring his own. They move into a new house together. But I’m supposed to be living a celibate life because I’m still his wife and he can accuse me of adultery.

I understand the letter of the law but does anyone else find this skewed in the cheater’s favor? I completely favor not rewarding a lying, cheating spouse who is sneaking around behind your back, gas lighting you, trying to convince you that you’re crazy and doing all sorts of horrible things to justify the behavior with spousal support. You wanna fuck around on your spouse? You better not need his or her money. But I think there’s a huge entitlement factor when you can cheat on your spouse and then demand that they be faithful to you.

I had no idea Harley was back in the picture when those two nitwits started up again. Cousinfucker spent the entire summer lying to me, humiliating me, deceiving me, and attempting to drain our financial resources on the whore. There is no way that Cousinfucker could possibly claim that our marriage was broken only when, and if, I began having sex with someone else. He was living with Harley, for crying out loud! This divorce had been in the works for almost two years by the time I even knew the mobster existed!

How very convenient for the cheater! If you just keep postponing your divorce hearing long enough your spouse may slip up by moving on and then you can get out of paying support!

On top of that my divorce hearing was November 3rd. I wasn’t officially divorced until the END of December. December 28th, to be exact. Very technically, if I were to have been having sex with someone and he could prove it up until the divorce was granted, he could have potentially re-opened our case and had spousal support thrown out. What a crock of shit! He had been having an affair for two and a half years. He had been living with the whore for almost two years. They’re engaged, y’all! Our divorce was filed over two years ago. Well, let me amend that. My original petition for divorce based on adultery was filed over two years ago. We didn’t prove it so while I did receive temporary support, I was not granted my divorce and would have to file again. I would have filed after our one year was up but Cousinfucker was pulling yet another crazy act out of his hat, and since he didn’t feel like he should communicate anything with me, his actual wife, during that period of time I had no idea what was going on. I thought he was back in the psych ward; I had no idea he had actually checked himself into the VA for alcohol treatment. Or that he was only in there for 3 days. So I waited. Our divorce hearing was supposed to take place in May but thanks to him crying wolf it was postponed another six months. A judgement had been rendered. My petition for divorce had been granted. We were just waiting on papers to be signed. He lives in Kentucky. I live in Indiana. There was no marriage here to speak of. I was certainly not leading him to believe I loved him and was devoted to our family. I wasn’t lying to him about where I was going or who I was texting. If I were to date he shouldn’t have been shocked; he’s living with another “woman” after all. Yet according to the laws in Virginia if I were to have had sex I was still committing adultery. Because according to Virginia law, there is no legal separation so I was still married.

Sorry, Virginia, but you need to move into the 21st century. Making couples wait a year before they can file is bad enough. I say this as a person who did not date right after separating and who had no desire to date.

As I said earlier, I can somewhat see it. They want you to make absolutely certain a divorce is what you want and they don’t want people filing and then withdrawing that petition over and over every time they get into a fight. Fine. I can even almost understand still being accused of adultery while you’re living separated for that year. The whole point is to make sure a divorce is what you really want. However, I think most people really want the divorce. I don’t think most people tend to file just for shits and giggles. Virginia is also really big on the two people living separately. They’ll accept living separately under the same roof but they don’t like it and have a bunch of rules you must adhere to. What they really want is for you to be physically separated. And once again we come to that fork in the road… you’re legally married but living separately and like a single person. So why this insincere cry of adultery?

I definitely think once those papers are filed you need to let it go! There shouldn’t be any possibility of some philandering spouse getting their feathers all ruffled because the betrayed spouse has moved on. For crying out loud- Cousinfucker was allowed to buy the whore and her kids whatever he wanted after our “separation” date. Once we separated his money was his to do with as he wished. Buy her an engagement ring? Check! Buy her kids new puppies? Check! Buy her daughter a ridiculously expensive dress for a school dance? Check! Blow through $30k in 4 months? Check! Any money put into his 401k his and his alone and not to be split up in the divorce? Check!

Why is it his finances are none of my business once we separate but my sex life is his business? If we’re married until we’re no longer married and I’m expected to be faithful to his cheating ass because I’m still his wife, then shouldn’t “his” money be “our” money until we’re no longer married?