Entitlement, Thy Name Is Cheater, Cont’d.

Speaking of entitled cheaters the mobster’s STBX called him while he was on vacation. T-Mobile lets you block a person but it doesn’t really block them unless you pay an extra fee. What it does is prevent them from directly reaching you. The texts go into the archive history and the phone calls go to voicemail.

The mobster wrote a post about it before I could write my own post (copycat!) and I’ll link to it if you want the transcript in its entirety. The gist of the conversation was this: She didn’t understand why he wouldn’t take or return her calls. He was her best friend and always would be. The fact that he won’t talk to her kills her and she doesn’t understand whyyyyyyy.

We’re right back to: I do not think that word means what you think it means. I don’t know about you people reading this but I don’t gaslight my best friend. I do not tell them bold face lies and expect them to believe those lies. I don’t accuse my best friend of abusing me… or my children. I don’t lead people on to believe that I need to be “rescued” from my best friend because of their abusive behavior. I don’t ditch my best friend by trying to slink out of the house without saying a word to them about the end of our friendship and then bring my new best friend to a kid’s ball game and proceed to act as though my former best friend never gave a shit about any of my fake injuries and illnesses- all caused by my former best friend, of course.  

Thankfully we are far enough along in our relationship that this kind of nonsense doesn’t bother me. As I told him, “I’m not upset by the fact she called; however, I have to point out the absurdity of her claims.”

It’s another sad sausage feeling sorry herself. Oh believe me, she was choked up. Practically in tears. Why, oh why, won’t you answer my calls? You’re my best friend and you always will be. Doesn’t that mean anything to you? Doesn’t it make you forget all the horrible things I did? Surely the knowledge that I’m willing to allow you to stand in the radiance that is me must be thrilling to you. Why won’t you take my call? How can I bless you with my presence if you keep ignoring me?  

As the mobster said, “What a chameleon she is.” Whenever her affair accomplice isn’t around she gets to feeling lonely and reaches out to him. It hasn’t happened in a long while but I know the routine by now. She just wants to hear his voice. Wants to let him know he was the very best husband. Now apparently it breaks her heart he won’t talk to her. He’s her best friend and always will be. But when the accomplice is back in the picture she becomes angry and combative. I don’t know if she’s putting on a show for him or what but it’s a completely different kettle of fish when she’s with him. The mobster surmised it must be an exhausting way to live.

I don’t think she’s exhausted. I think she’s entitled. This is the woman who seemed to think it was fine to send pictures of herself in a bikini to another man behind her husband’s back. She seemed to think that, “All I did was show him my pussy!” was a valid defense when questioned about a possible affair with yet another man. She fed her sad little tale of woe to someone else and he fell for it hook, line, and sinker. He was going to be her brave Prince Charming, rescuing her from her angry, abusive husband. Then whenever she was left alone (new guy apparently is gone for work quite often) she would call the mobster and expect him to fall for her lies and offer to rush right over. For so long the mobster overlooked everything; his entire focus was on getting her sober and making their marriage work. She felt entitled to his love and devotion and can’t believe he finally walked away.

In the beginning I would almost feel bad. I remember telling him that I didn’t want to be the reason they didn’t reconcile. If he still felt like he had a marriage to save then I would step away. He also assured me though that he was done that night she brought the affair accomplice to their kid’s game and proceeded to put on a show. That was when he finally had had enough. He filed for divorce the next day. He has also pointed out that she is all talk. She’ll say these things hoping to keep him on the hook but she never does anything. She misses him so much but then says she can’t leave her affair accomplice. She misses him but makes no moves to come back or to try to make amends. As he so aptly puts it, “She probably doesn’t even remember the conversation the next day.”

I believe it goes back to what I said in the very beginning: He was supposed to be her Plan B. He was not supposed to move on; he was not supposed to meet someone else and fall in love. She could replace him but he was supposed to pine after her forever.

When I say they’re entitled this is exactly what I’m talking about. Only a cheater could sneak around behind your back, lie to your face, leave you for another person, malign your character, and then turn around and pitifully cry, “You’re my best friend and you always will be! Why won’t you take my calls?”

Quarantine Craziness!

If any of you read Chump Lady then you probably saw Thursday’s post about Bruce Willis self-quarantining with his ex wife, Demi Moore, and their three adult children. If you’re familiar with Chump Lady then you can probably guess her reaction. She thought it was crazy and stupid.

I, personally, don’t care whether they’re all stuck together or not. Bruce and Demi have always had a crazy type of post-divorce relationship. They’ve always made a show of being a united front for their three girls, at least publicly. Hell, maybe privately too; I don’t know them so I can’t say with certainty. They were the supposed goal of post divorce relationships, even when she got together with the much younger Ashton Kutcher. It was all one big happy family with the girls calling Ashton “MOD”, or, my other dad. I did feel a bit vindicated when it was revealed after Demi and Ashton broke up that Bruce had always thought the guy was a jerk. I also feel fairly confident that “their other dad” doesn’t have much of a relationship with “his” daughters now that he has remarried and has two children of his own.

Tracy did bring up one valid point though, which I hadn’t really thought about. Bruce is remarried and has two young daughters with the current Mrs. Willis. Why is he not with them?

I don’t really care. Honestly. What I did find interesting in all the comments was someone who decided to chime in with the news that she had left Chump Nation because it felt like a cult. Despite being cheated on she and her cheater remain friendly and she felt like Chump Lady didn’t approve. She went on to say that Chump Lady wants everyone to hate their ex and basically shames those who don’t. Another commenter chimed in with, “Exes CAN be caring friends. It DOES happen.” And then went on to imply that Chump Lady wants everyone to be pissed off at their ex.

Um… no she doesn’t. She’s pretty clear on this. Does she want you to get angry and use your anger to propel you through the hard parts of this shit show? Absolutely! Does she want you to stay there and wallow in your misery and the unfairness of it all? Not at all. Her standard go to advice is that the pain is finite. It hurts like a sonofabitch but it will end. On some random Tuesday. Her goal for her readers? To reach Meh, that glorious state where you don’t care what your fuckwit is doing or who they’re doing it with. You’re not angry. You’re not vengeful. You are way too busy living your new amazing life.

I can believe she doesn’t see the point in remaining friends with your ex. Then again, her first ex, the father of her child, is a hoarder with mental issues who sued her pro se for custody continuously despite rarely seeing his own child and being financially negligent; and her second ex was a serial cheating sociopath. Not a lot to work with.

She’s also not a big fan of the whole “conscious uncoupling”. I’m right there with her. If infidelity wasn’t a part of your divorce I can see perhaps remaining friendly. Otherwise, my question has always been: Why would I want friends like these?

She firmly believes you don’t have a lot to work with when your spouse cheats. She doesn’t think most of them are genuinely remorseful; they just don’t like consequences so they’ll say or do whatever is needed to prevent said consequences. And she has said many times that cheating is not about the marriage rather it’s about entitlement and shitty character.

I understand she’s not everyone’s cup of tea. I’ll even let you in on a little secret: I don’t agree with everything she says. The Bruce and Demi self-quarantine? I don’t care. And despite her insistence that they’re probably having sex and the new wife should file for divorce, I don’t think that’s true. Her views on emotional affairs? Don’t necessarily agree, although she has changed her stance over the years. This idea that a 50 or 60 year old has just as much of a chance to find love again as a 20 or 30 year old? Nope. Don’t agree. I also don’t think she necessarily gives credence to all the different variables people have in their lives. It sometimes feels like it’s a one size fits all approach. I tend to think that obstacles facing a 60 year old whose marriage has disintegrated after 35 years are probably different from the 30 year old who is divorcing after five years. I tend to think that the woman who has been a stay at home mom for 15 years is going to find it financially more difficult than the woman who is the main breadwinner in her family. Despite my minor disagreements I’m not offended by her or her message. I take what I can use and I leave the rest. Her tag line is very clear: Leave a cheater, gain a life.

Apparently though there are some people out there that are very, very offended by the fact that Chump Lady exists. They’re offended by the fact that she preaches leaving instead of reconciliation. They’re offended that she doesn’t encourage friendship and “cooperation”, but rather gray rock and no contact. They’re offended at the thought of no longer untangling the skein, or giving up their spot on the marriage police. They also seem to be offended by the fact she believes instead of investing in a relationship with a person who has lied to you, cheated on you, and stabbed you in the back you should invest in yourself.

My first thought on the commenter who was complaining Chump Lady wants everyone to hate their ex and all of those who are offended by the fact that she doesn’t believe in reconciliation is, “Who the fuck cares?” Seriously! There are 11,569,214 websites out there devoted to reconciling with your lying cheater, aka your wayward spouse. There are almost as many blogs written by betrayed spouses who are reconciling after infidelity. Chump Lady is ONE website that doesn’t preach reconciling at all costs. Actually, if you read her you know she doesn’t preach reconciling at any cost. But it’s one website! One website out of millions. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to find blogs written by divorced women? Most of the blogs I have found are written by women (almost overwhelmingly women) that are reconciling. Most websites are geared towards reconciliation. It’s a foregone conclusion that you want to save your marriage.

As for being friends with your ex? That is the message we are bombarded with every. single. day! Friendly exes are held up as the golden standard. Look, they vacation together! They spend holidays together! I believe in putting my children’s needs ahead of my own; that’s why I threw the OW a baby shower. We’re besties now- because it’s best for the children. I live with my ex on the weekends- for the children.

We get literally one website that tells us it’s okay to not be buddy buddy with someone who has abused you. One website that tells us it’s okay if we don’t want to double date with the ex and the replacement, or host parties together, or vacation together. We get one website that tells us it’s okay not to engage, to not waste our breath. One website out of 11,569,214 that tells us it’s not us, it’s them. That we don’t control them and there wasn’t anything we did or didn’t do to make them cheat on us. And even there you find people who want to talk about forgiveness and thinking of the children. Like those of us who aren’t willing to have our ex and the OW over for dinner must not love our children. Like those of us who would rather crawl through raw sewage than sit with our ex and the affair partner never think of our children or refuse to put their needs ahead of our own.

There’s a woman who is hosting dinner for her husband (not divorced yet) and his pregnant girlfriend/mistress because custody orders are still in place and if she does dinners with them then Daddy Dearest won’t push the issue and insist they transfer the child between homes during this pandemic. Many people have responded with, “No. Not gonna happen.” She continues to insist she is putting her child’s needs ahead of her own and doing what it takes to help her child be comfortable. Then along comes someone who tells her what a wonderful thing she’s doing, how it’s so great that she can put her child ahead of her own ego and anger.

There it is again. That assumption that people can’t let go, that they’re mired down by their anger. If only you would forgive everything would be wonderful. Adult children of divorced parents NEVER complain about their parents being civil to one another. They are only grateful Mommy and Daddy could put aside whatever petty issues they may have had which led to this divorce so that everyone could go to Benihana’s after the school play or they could have both of their parents there on Christmas morning.

Ah yes, the kids are rubbing the sleep out of their eyes as they roll out of bed in their matching pajamas. They run down the stairs to the sight of their giant Christmas tree decorated to the nines and full of blinking lights. Presents overflowing. There’s Mommy in her sweats and t-shirt. She’s been up all night getting things ready for the big reveal and has been busy making breakfast for everyone. And then there’s Daddy and his whore, both dressed in their Christmas finest, with her practically sitting on his lap, her hand firmly holding onto his as if to claim him. Mommy is dutifully serving Daddy and the whore that helped demolish her family like the good subservient loser that she is. They all laugh and coo over the kids as they open their gifts, patting themselves on the back because they’re so evolved and love their children so much more than those bitter exes that spend the holidays in separate homes. Then Daddy and the replacement say it’s time for them to go. Maybe they take the kids with them for more festivities. Maybe they head home to their own quiet, clean house to spend the rest of the day in bed, fucking like rabbits before going out for Chinese food and going to the movies. Meanwhile, Mom is left to clean up the kitchen and the mess of wrapping paper, ribbons, and bows and assemble the toys or find batteries. Wow- sounds like an amazing holiday.

The sad part is that this is the narrative preached by so many. This is the only way to teach civility, letting go, moving on, exhibiting grace. It’s also the only way you can demonstrate that your children’s well being is the most important thing.

You know what? I AM a child of divorce. I never once wanted those things. I never expected my parents to act as a unit now that they were divorced. I don’t know who all these kids are that think even though Mommy and Daddy are divorced they’re still going to do everything together. My dad cheated on my mom. For years my mother could not stand him… or her. I still remember after Rock Star’s fourth or fifth birthday party when everyone had gone home my mom telling me she had been talking to my dad and she had to find something else to do because she was having a good time talking to him and it almost made her forget how much she couldn’t stand him. They separated when I was in fourth grade. I had my first child at 31. This was twenty plus years later.

I’m not damaged by the fact that we didn’t spend holidays together or that my parents weren’t super chummy. It was just the way it was. My mother was civil when she had to be. She preferred to not be around him. He and the OW turned wife were invited to her home for my graduation party. I think that was probably the first time they were in the same space for a prolonged period of time. I’m not sure they said a single word to one another at my wedding. You know what? I didn’t even notice. It did not affect me or my big day. They were able to be in the same space when we started having kids and the kids had birthday parties. Again, she was civil when she had to be. She was not friendly. She kept people around her and kept busy when they were there in the same space. I’ve never had a problem with that. I’ve never thought less of her. I’ve never wondered, “Gee, why didn’t my parents take us on a family vacation after they got divorced?”

I have always believed you do not cease to be a person with feelings and emotions once you have children. Yet, so often what we’re told is good parents eat shit sandwiches. Good parents let people walk all over them for the sake of their children. You don’t get to feel hurt. You don’t get to feel angry. You don’t get to draw boundaries. You’re a parent. Whatever your kid wants you should give them. Don’t worry about the psychological toll it may take on you.

I say, “Balderdash!” I much prefer Chump Lady’s message. Let us have our ONE damn site out of millions. If we’re all wrong who the fuck cares? It’s not like there aren’t millions upon millions of websites and blogs that are going to push reconciliation and friendliness between exes.

To be continued…

The County Is Coming For You!

 

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Good Lord, woman, punctuation is your friend! I guess I shouldn’t have bitched about those misused commas. This is simply awful! You give English teachers everywhere a migraine.

He didn’t unblock her but he was searching in his history when he saw this. I guess crazy doesn’t like to be ignored.

First, let’s do this:

You think I’m kidding? You wait. The county is coming for your ass.

Much better.

 

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Only took her 17 minutes to work herself up into a rage because her first try didn’t illicit a reaction. Poor thing!

I’m curious how her boyfriend, you know, the one she left her husband for, would react if he knew about her childish threats and tantrums because her husband moved on. Wonder if she cried to him about it that night?

I’m intrigued though. What will the county do? Is she expecting the county to come arrest him for having a “sleepover” friend?

Um, hello? Is this the county? Yes, I’d like you to go arrest my husband. He has been having a “sleepover friend” stay at our house.

No, I- I don’t live there. I break in occasionally but I don’t actually live there. There’s some kind of paper that actually prohibits me from being on the property but that’s not important. What’s important is that she shouldn’t be there!

How old is my daughter? I’m not sure. 18, I think? Maybe? I’ll text her and get back to you.

You can’t do anything? But he’s having her sleep over with my minor child in the home!

What? 18 is no longer a minor? When the hell did that happen? You know what? I don’t care! I want him arrested. He cannot have sleepover friends! Only I am allowed to have sleepover friends! And I never did it in our house. I always did the courteous thing and disappeared for days at a time until I finally just walked out on him one day.

I’ve already told her that adultery is a class 4 misdemeanor. No jail time. Unlike say, perhaps, a DWI. Plus, you need proof. I have a houseful of people who would testify that the mobster gave up his room so that Rock Star and I could have it. He slept on the couch. Am I never allowed to stay overnight, period? It’s a long drive! Or can I stay overnight if I’m part of a large group? I was one of eight people, not including the mobster and his daughter, that was spending the night that weekend.

She is a mess. Her behavior actually worries the mobster a bit. He fears she could become unhinged and do something horrible.

I, on the other hand, told him he needs to text her back and tell her not to contact him again and then let her know that if she ever does send another text to him he will file a restraining order against her.

Don’t worry. I’m still sitting on my hands. Instead of texting her I’ll just say as they do in the south, “Well bless her heart. I’ll be praying for her.”

 

Sitting On My Hands- HARD

If any of you read the mobster’s blog, too, then you already know BSC sent him a text today.

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Just like I know kayaks can be deadly but they’re so fun I know I shouldn’t respond but I so want to! I’m going to try to be good and respond here instead.

Hey Batshit Crazy!

Got your text. Few corrections for you.

  1. I’m NOT an online tramp! Online would imply that our relationship exists only online and that we’ve never met up in real life. If that were the case you wouldn’t have seen me at T’s party and you wouldn’t be having your little tantrum.
  2. It is not your house. You are no longer allowed inside without the mobster’s permission. I, on the other hand, am welcome anytime. Did you like what I did with it? The newly painted walls were my idea. I told him he really needed to get rid of that god awful wallpaper so he did. Next to go will be those hideous Harley Davidson orange walls you were so fond of.
  3. You aren’t entitled to 50% of “your” tax return because you are still married. You are only entitled to half when you actually get a divorce. The mobster could have put his entire paycheck into an account with only his name on it and you wouldn’t have been able to touch that money as a married woman. The only way you can force him to “share” if you will, is by divorcing him. Then he has to cough up half. And if you’re honest, which we both know you never are, you would acknowledge that he has offered to pay you your half the minute you sign your divorce papers. You are the one preventing yourself from getting your share. Also, if you’re upset about not getting your “half” of the tax refund you’re going to be really pissed when he sells the house and takes all of the proceeds. Again, as long as you refuse to divorce him he can do with it what he wishes. Half only works when you’re actually divorced.
  4. You’re going to have him “arrested” for adultery? Seriously? You are the one living with another man and have been for the last two years. At least he waited until you left before he started dating again. You are the one who cheated on him repeatedly. You are the one that disappeared for days at a time. You are the one who walked out on him, abandoned your kids, and moved in with another man.
  5. For all your blustering Virginia classifies adultery as a Class 4 misdemeanor which is the lowest criminal offense and only 8 people have been convicted of adultery over a 10 year period. There is no jail time. Sorry to disappoint. At most, he would face a $250 fine. Then again so would you. FYI- I would gladly pay that fine for him. He is that good!
  6. Please learn to spell. A-D-U-L-T-E-R-Y
  7. Virginia is not a state. It’s a commonwealth. Please brush up on your state government/history.
  8. Also, periods are your friend. They denote the end of one sentence and the beginning of another. A comma does not. What you have is a very long run-on sentence. Or, put in a way you might understand: Also, periods are your friend, they denote the end of one sentence and the beginning of another, a comma does not, what you have is a very long run-on sentence.
  9. A judge might order a no sleepover clause… if the child in question was 8. T is 18. She is a legal adult. If Virginia won’t impose child support for a child who is 18 and has graduated high school, and they won’t force a parent to help pay for college costs, I have a hard time believing they’ll put anything into a court order about not allowing him to have a “sleepover friend” with his 18 year old, legally an adult daughter in the house. But you go right ahead and try that.
  10. This daughter you’re so concerned with… Is this the same daughter who you have not helped to support at all since walking out without saying a word more than two years ago? Is it the same daughter you’ve seen only a handful of times since you walked out? I will acknowledge the fact you’ve shown up to her softball games. Generally you were barefoot, cheering inappropriately, or your boyfriend was trying to guilt her into talking to you. You also typically left before the game ended so you never actually interacted with her. Is this also the same daughter whose television you stole and then, when confronted, told her to prove it? Ultimately, you trashed her TV, never apologized, never replaced it, and continue to act like YOU are the victim.
  11. Enjoy the orange. Hmmm…. so many ways to go with this one.
    1. I didn’t realize a fruit basket was included.
    2. The mobster’s favorite- Thanks! I loves oranges!
    3. I guess if he needs any tips you’re the person to go to. God knows you’ve been in jail often enough.
    4. Again, pot, meet kettle. Somewhere in all of this there is a joke about orange being the new black.
  12. This has nothing to do with your text but I want to make it clear that I offered to stay at home and skip T’s graduation and party. The mobster wanted me there. T wanted me there. For her there wasn’t even a question as to whether or not I would be there. When she was told our concerns that you might show your ass if I was there her response was that if that happened YOU would be escorted off the property. Yes, I know that’s mean. No, I don’t care. You have brought all of this on yourself. Stop whining. Stop playing the victim.

Signed,

The woman who has been described as “a blessing” to the mobster and has been held up as the reason why he is “like a completely different man” by his family (I’ve also been told it’s nice to see him smiling again.)

Whew! I feel better. I guess we know why she was crying now, huh?

In many ways I feel bad about making light of it. I can imagine for a person who is used to being the center of attention it must be difficult to see another woman in her former house. It must be difficult to see your own family members embracing her. It would be difficult for me to know that my own family was staying with the ex and the new woman instead of with me. To be fair, in my situation I was the one who was cheated on; in her situation she was the one who cheated. I’m sure it was hard seeing me help myself to coffee or bustle around the kitchen preparing food for the party. Or seeing his family talk to me and interact with me. I wouldn’t be surprised to find out she absolutely hated the fact that T wanted to get a picture with me, or that she hugged me and thanked me for her party. And as the person who always had her new boyfriend with her she has never been on the other side having to watch her ex with someone new.

Ultimately though just as I said above she brought all this on herself. She walked away. She was so full of herself and so confident that nothing she did would ever make him leave. She thought he would always be her back up plan; she thought he would never move on. He was supposed to be her whipping boy, mournfully awaiting her return, loyal until his dying day.

Sadly for her it didn’t work out that way. Instead she pushed him too far, before he ever knew I existed. He filed for divorce. He decided he was done with her. Then he met me and he’s never looked back.

The moral of the story is: Be careful what you wish for. The other moral of the story is: She’s batshit crazy!

Into the Bowels of Hell, The Recap, Part 3

We’re up to the fifth and final hurdle. This ended up being a new one for me. I never anticipated having breakfast with her.

Fifth hurdle- breakfast the day after the party. Oh, Jesus, help me! Her sister apologized profusely the night before. She (the sister) had wanted to get together with her niece and nephews for breakfast because they were going to be taking off the next day. BSC heard them making plans and invited herself on over for breakfast with them.

I have to admit, for a small window of time I was kinda pissed at the mobster that he didn’t text her and flat out tell her not to come. You are not invited! You are not welcome. Stay away.

I got over it. I did not, however, make breakfast. Yeah, no. I’m not cooking breakfast for that woman. Instead, Mobster and his brother-in-law made breakfast.

It turned out to be a very interesting morning. I’m glad it happened because I learned a lot.

When I first came out of the bedroom BSC was sitting at the table with her sister. A’s girlfriend asked me how I was and I replied, “Fabulous,” and went about my business of grabbing a cup and making my coffee.

Thankfully, she spent most of her time outside with her sister. Hooray! I spent it inside (in the air conditioning) with the sons’ wife and girlfriends. Very interesting stuff.

I’m going to call the oldest son’s girlfriend Little Miss Sunshine, because that girl is so sweet and loving. I’m going to call the middle son’s wife CeeCee, because his first name begins with a C and her first name begins with a C, making her C’s C. The youngest son’s girlfriend I will refer to as The Dog Lover. Honestly, all three of these young women are dog lovers, but the other two have other nicknames from me. Now for the stories.

Story #1- A, the oldest, was asking Little Miss Sunshine what his mother was doing here. She told him she had no idea. I raised my hand and said I knew. I asked him if he wanted me tell him, which he did. So, I told him about her overhearing her sister when she was making plans for breakfast with them and her inviting herself over for that. He shook his head in amazement.

At another point C had to go outside and say hello to her. CeeCee was like, “Better him than me.”

It’s sad when your kids feel that way about you. Which brings us to Story #2.

I have to say I really enjoyed spending time with C and CeeCee this time around. Not that I didn’t enjoy it before. This time it felt more authentic, I guess. I learned a lot more. I feel like more barriers were down. I think CeeCee is just a much more reserved person. I think both her and The Dog Lover are a bit reserved, unlike Little Miss Sunshine who is bubbly and overflows with sweetness and kindness.

Anyway, CeeCee began talking about BSC. I forget what led to it, but basically she has no tolerance for her. She hates the way she manipulates her kids, especially C. As she put it, “She’s always the victim.” Exactly! That’s what we’ve been saying! Not that we’ve ever said that out loud to the kids, of course. She went on to say that it would be nice if she could take a step back and look at what she’s done to her kids, and see that maybe the reason her kids don’t want to have a whole lot to do with her has to do with her own behavior. She gave the example of BSC texting C late at night to tell him she got kicked out of the house and she was living in the woods. She said he would get upset and worried about her while CeeCee tries to remind him that it’s all lies.

I am a bit proud of this girl because she knows in her early twenties something that a lot of people don’t figure out until their forties or fifties. You can’t have a relationship with a toxic person. She said that. She even mentioned that she’s not sure she would even want BSC around her children, and cited that as a major reason they’re not sure they want kids.

At one point CeeCee said that BSC doesn’t like her and never has. She talked about how frustrating it was that BSC didn’t come to her bridal shower or anything else having to do with the wedding, but then showed up at the wedding, drinking, dancing, whooping it up and acting like nothing was wrong. Preach it, girl!

I took that opportunity to tell her that yes, I did actually have Garth Brooks’ concert tickets, but once I found out she was going to be there I decided not to come, or at least that had been a huge part of my thinking the entire time. I flat out told her I was worried that she would have shown her ass and I didn’t want them to have to worry about that on their big day. She agreed with me and said that’s probably exactly what would have happened. She also said BSC didn’t bother to show up until right before the wedding began.

I think this may have led into Little Miss Sunshine telling her that BSC had glommed onto her at the wedding and was trash talking her and A’s ex-wife. Seriously, who does that? You don’t go to a wedding and trash talk the bride! You may not care for the bride or groom, but you don’t pick their wedding reception as a chance to vent your frustrations to their other guests!

In addition to telling Little Miss Sunshine how much she disliked V and CeeCee and that Little Miss Sunshine was the only good girl in the family, she also took that opportunity to steal sips out of her drink. Like, she would reach over, take a sip, and put it back in front of her.

When BSC finally decided to leave the house and head back to her own place she came inside to say goodbye. We were sitting and standing around the table. I think C was there. A. Little Miss Sunshine. CeeCee was sitting on the end. I was beside her. Rock Star beside me. I think maybe the brother-in-law was next to her. Possibly the grandson. L was sitting slightly behind us, on the barstool and The Dog Lover was sitting next to him.

She hugs C. Hugs A. Hugs Little Miss Sunshine and makes a big deal of saying goodbye to “baby girl” and telling her to keep in contact and be sure to send those pictures of the grandson. She turns around, completely ignoring CeeCee, myself, and Rock Star. Pats L on his cheek before giving him a hug. Ignores The Dog Lover. Hugs the grandson and the brother-in-law and then heads out. Wow!

Come to think of it, after she left I looked at Little Miss Sunshine and remarked, “You must be something special. She didn’t say bye to CeeCee or me!” That may have been when she launched into her story about the wedding and all the trash talk.

Either way, this is your daughter-in-law. Your son has chosen to marry her. I’m not saying you have to hug her and love on her and act like you think she’s the best thing ever. But is it asking too much to say goodbye, maybe even a, “Nice to see you again,” regardless of whether or not it’s a lie? The brass balls on this woman is astounding.

When I look back on this weekend I will be able to say that it was a great weekend, despite BSC’s presence. For the most part we stayed away from each other. When we had to be close by, even passing right by one another, we didn’t look at each other and we didn’t speak.

His kids were amazing about accepting Rock Star into the fold. She was frequently called out to be on a team for volleyball. At one point she told me, “God, I always said I wanted a big brother and now I’ve got 3.” She’s not real sure about that.

The night after graduation we went over to C’s, as I mentioned, and we had a fantastic time. I know the mobster just enjoyed having all of his kids together. All his baby birds in one nest.

Saturday was spent at the house, enjoying the graduation party.

Sunday after the disastrous breakfast the “kids” all played volleyball, then we (C, CeeCee, A, Little Miss Sunshine, the grandson, Rock Star, Mobster, and I) went to grab snow cones. The mobster and I left the snow cone shack to meet his brother and sister-in-law at a winery here in town. My daughter left to go put gas in the car and buy herself a new pair of swim bottoms. The last remaining members went to play pinball and arcade games, although CeeCee went home to shower and do some homework. T, who didn’t go with us to get a snow cone, met her two brothers at the arcade. Then we all met up for Mexican food around 5:30.

I heard some incredibly funny stories about their childhood while we were there. The evening could be summed up as a lot of laughter.

We all went over to C and CeeCee’s house after dinner. They played yard games and volleyball. There was some more drinking, although not a lot.

For me, I felt like I really connected with his kids this weekend. A was very warm and welcoming. He is his father’s mini me. The mobster always said it was C, and while C never seems to meet a stranger much like his father, A is a carbon copy. Holy moly!

I felt very accepted and welcomed by C, and this was the most I have ever spent talking to CeeCee. She’s a very sweet girl. She loves C very much and I know she hates what he’s gone through. She’s a good wife. Very loyal to him. I’m sorry I missed their wedding and I wish I could have been there, although I absolutely know it was the best decision.

Monday morning A and Little Miss Sunshine were up around 5:30 to get the car packed and get back on the road. I got up with the mobster to send them off. I got hugs from all three of them, which was nice. A said, “I’m sure we’ll be seeing you again sometime soon,” which was also nice.

To sum up, there was a little drama but it was definitely outweighed by the goodness of the weekend. As always I bow to the mobster. He is the smartest man alive.

 

Into the Bowels of Hell, The Recap, Part 2

I’ve crossed the first three hurdles. They ended up being surprisingly easy. This next one, though… it was a little tougher. Little more drama. I took my first drink (punch spiked with vodka) around 1 and kept on drinking until late that night. Thankfully, it was spread out over 8-10 hours so I never even got buzzed, despite having 3 drinks in hand at one point in the afternoon!

Fourth hurdle- the graduation party. Sweet J nailed it. She absolutely, positively did show up. She was there all freaking day! The party started at 1 and I don’t think she left until 6 or 7. It might have been later. So much for not being able to bear seeing the mobster with me, huh?

Oh, and for those who doubt she’s batshit crazy and I’m just interpreting things from my point of view? She’s batshit crazy. 11:00 the night before the party she texts the mobster, “I hope you go to hell!” Who does that?

To her credit though she did bring 16 hotdogs and 2 packages of hot dog buns. Plus a watermelon. And maybe some potato salad, but I’m not sure.

Even better, at the graduation she tells one of his sisters that she dislikes the mobster immensely, but then shut her pie hole when her sister came up. Can’t let anyone see that she’s the instigator, of course.

Thankfully, her sister had already told Mobster that she recognized BSC always played the victim. It’s always someone doing something to her. It’s never her fault. In fact, later that evening after she went over to see where she was living they went by the site of her accident last year. She pointed it out and was laughing about it.

On top of all of that, according to various sources she spent a great deal of the party crying. Someone told the mobster the day of the party his ex was in the house crying and two days later someone else told me she had been bawling and carrying on pretty much the entire party.

Okay, the person who told me was the mobster’s mother. And the story I heard was that for some reason BSC yelled, “You don’t love me!” to her and then apologized for her behavior as she was leaving. Mobster’s mom said she was surprised because BSC had never raised her voice to her like that before.

There’s a very good chance she was drinking, though. She and the boyfriend’s sister kept going up to the car that was parked behind the house.

I have no idea what she was crying about and so far I have yet to hear a good explanation from anyone who might have been near her.

She is the one that was cheating. She is the one who left. She is the one who moved straight in with her boyfriend. You would think with all her crying and poor little me attitude that I was the other woman who had moved in on her husband while she was none the wiser and thought they had a blissfully happy marriage. Nope, not how it played out.

One of the mobster’s sisters swears she’s unhappy with her life and wants to come back to him and that’s why she’s acting like this.

I think she simply can’t believe he moved on. He was supposed to always stick around and be waiting, and he didn’t. She pushed him too far this last time and he was done.

But what would I know? We stayed in separate areas the entire time. Well, almost the entire time. At one point I was outside underneath a canopy with Mobster’s brother-in-law (not the one married to BSC’s sister) and a few other people. Mobster was playing, “Don’t Go Away Mad (Just Go Away)” by Motley Crue, and I was singing along. I was sitting in this comfy adirondack chair, my eyes closed, drink in hand. Someone called out to T and asked her to come over to where we were. I am singing the chorus: Girl, don’t go away mad. Girl, just go away. I happen to open my eyes, thinking T had come over, and who should appear but BSC. Oops!

I remained composed. It wasn’t intentional but it sure as hell was funny. The brother-in-law was looking at me like, “Oh shit!” Eh. She went away. Just like the song suggested.

Most of the time though if she was outside we were inside. Or, she was underneath a tent and Rock Star and I were in the garage.

The same brother-in-law who ended up enjoying my concert later, sat with me in the garage while we ate and asked me if it was awkward. I told him it was okay. He then went on to say she was walking around like she still owned the place. I wouldn’t know because I didn’t pay much attention to her.

I think when she first arrived she did come into the house with her boyfriend’s sister. We would just walk by one another. Never said a word to each other. His sister was plenty nice though and offered to help.

At one point Mobster and I drove up to his parents’ house because his son had inadvertently taken T’s phone with him. He agreed to turn around and drop it off at his grandparents’ house and Mobster would go pick it up.

When we came back we parked up behind the house. “That looks like David’s truck,” he says to me as we were walking back to the house. “It wasn’t here earlier.”

“Surely she wouldn’t attempt to bring him to this party,” I told him. I was thinking there was no way their balls were that big.

Alas, I was wrong and Monica nailed it. I’m not sure how we got separated but I walked into the house and saw him standing with her on the enclosed porch. I’m pretty sure my eyes got wide and I was thinking, “Oh shit! Mobster is going to lose his mind.”

I do remember walking into the house and preparing the Jell-O shots (not alcoholic; they’re actually pudding and Jell-O topped with Cool Whip.) and when his sister-in-law came up I said he was going to be pissed and then asked what the fuck was wrong with some people.

I shouldn’t have worried though because the mobster handled it like a champ. I think she wanted the drama and he didn’t give it to her. He ignored it all (aside from passive aggressively playing music). We didn’t even do grand gestures of affection in front of her.

At one point I know we were outside sweating our asses off while she and her boyfriend enjoyed the air conditioning inside.

There is a juvenile, petty side of me that would have loved to have seen the boyfriend escorted off the property, or for the mobster and I to have been kissing and hugging and making a scene. But, as the mobster kept saying, “It’s T’s party. It’s all about her today. I don’t want to ruin her party.” And he was correct.

Had we done either of those things it would have been playing into BSC’s hands. We would be seen as the unstable ones, the unreasonable ones, while she comes off looking like the victim. Sometimes you’ve gotta eat a little bit of shit, I guess. Really, it wasn’t that difficult. We stayed away from them. They stayed away from us. Although, there was a point where I told him I was going to go up to the two of them and ask them if they wanted to play cornhole. I didn’t.

Three other small things: #1- at the beginning of the party T came up to the mobster and I and put her arms around us both. She said thank you for her party. I told her she was welcome but that it was all her dad’s doing. Just between us, yes, I helped decorate but he bought all the decorations. I made Scotcheroos, beer bread, taco dip and Jell-O shots, which she requested, but he bought the hotdogs, the hamburgers, the buns, and the 6 ft. sub. Her grandmother brought potato salad and really cute sweet treats. T’s sister-in-law brought a pasta salad. We all pitched in a little to help him out but he did the majority of the work.

The mobster did mention he wondered if she did that to piss her mom off. I have no idea. I prefer to think it was genuine and that she was really grateful for the awesome party her dad put together and that I helped with.

#2- Later in the afternoon I was passing out the Jell-O shots when one of T’s friends piped up with, “Wow- Sam’s the good mom!” Disclaimer: This happened in the house in the living room. Mom was safely outside.

To be honest I was a little taken back. More like a deer in headlights. Oh shit! What do you say to that? All of her friends know the story but I wasn’t expecting that. I know there was a time when she had a few friends over and her mom was also over getting something and they all made it a point to say hello very loudly to me. I probably didn’t handle it the best way. I probably should have said, “Well, yes, I am a good mom, but that’s because I’m a good mom to my own two kids.” I guess that could have made things really awkward though. Instead I laughed it off.

His oldest son, the one I had just met the day before, was there in the living room, playing video games with the other kids, and he pretty much laughed it off as well and told her friend, “You know, in “The Good Mother” the mother actually wasn’t good so that’s not really the compliment you think it is.”

Then we both laughed about it and I made a lame joke about being evil.

#3- As I mentioned a moment ago I made beer bread. Turns out C is a huge fan. I’ve written before how I sometimes feel like some of Mobster’s kids don’t like me. This time though C looks at me and asks, “What kind of bread is that?” I told him it was beer bread. I was thinking he was going to tell me he was allergic or something and run to spit it out, but instead he got a big grin on his face and said, “I love beer bread. You’re the best!”

Yes! Success! Sam came. She baked. She conquered!

Into the Bowels of Hell, The Recap, Part 1

First, the good news. I survived! That’s awesome, isn’t it? Did you doubt me? I’m a plucky little thing.

Second, there is so much to recap that I’m going to have to do this in three parts, or you’ll be here reading for a good 30 minutes.

To summarize, when I last left off I had five hurdles to navigate. #1- meeting the oldest son, his girlfriend, and the grandson, #2- meeting the sister and brother-in-law, #3- meeting the son placed for adoption, #4- the graduation, and #5- the party.

As it turns out the adopted son did not attend. Something about he doesn’t have a license so he was going to fly but then nobody heard from him. Regardless, I didn’t meet the son placed for adoption.

Funnily enough I still ended up with five fucking hurdles. I got blindsided with a breakfast at the house with her on Sunday. Fun, fun!

Are you ready?

First hurdle to navigate- meeting the oldest son. He and his girlfriend were delightful. If they hated me they are very good at covering it. I jest. We had a great weekend together. His girlfriend is just the sweetest thing ever! She immediately went to hug me and then stopped herself. “Is it okay if I hug you?” she asked. Of course I said yes.

I think it was later that night someone was talking about what he should buy his girlfriend. I piped in with, “You could buy her a hot tub.” Now, there was a purpose behind this. It wasn’t as random as it sounds in this post, but I can’t remember what we were talking about. He replied, “I might be able to do that. It’s better than what most people tell me I should buy her. They’re always telling me I should buy her a ring.” Immediately I reply, “Well, you should do that, too.” This brings me to the point of this whole paragraph. He says, “Wait a minute! You’re supposed to be on my side!”

I thought that was cute. It was like we were a team already.

Second hurdle- meeting the sister and brother-in-law. What can I say? The mobster is the smartest man in the world. He’s getting a bit cocky with it now because this last time I admitted it he asked me, “So when are you finally going to start listening to me?”

They couldn’t have been nicer and more welcoming. His brother-in-law, upon meeting me, asked, “Is this Facebook Sam?” Yes, yes it is.

Later that night, after the graduation, he put his arm around me, leaned down and told me it was nice to see the mobster smiling again.

Her sister was super helpful the day of the party. She helped decorate and was always asking if there was something she could do.

They taught us how to play new board games, invited us both up to New Hampshire, and gave us hugs when they left.

They were both fantastic. It didn’t feel awkward at all.

Third hurdle- graduation. She showed up. Several people, including her sister, said she either looked or sounded drunk.

Thankfully we didn’t sit together. There were over 20 of us there for T’s graduation and we didn’t even all sit together. It was so hot and humid. Of course it was outside, which worked well for the graduates as far as not having to limit the number of people they could have. It was hell for the audience, though.

She was hugging on all of the mobster’s family. So great to see them all, I’m sure.

At one point her sister was waving to someone and it caught my eye. I looked up and happened to lock eyes with BSC for a moment. That was uncomfortable.

After the graduation we all went out onto the field to take pictures with the graduate. Naturally, BSC was close by, hugging people, and just generally acting like Mother of the Year.

We ignored each other, which suited me fine. T came up to me and told me she wanted to get a picture with me. She had already taken one with Rock Star.

The mobster’s family all came up and said hello to me and made sure to keep me included.

After the graduation we bought pizzas and went over to C’s house. There was eating and drinking and a bonfire. She was not invited. We were out until after midnight. It was worth it though. I know the mobster enjoyed being around all of his kids.

To be continued…

Into the Bowels of Hell

I’m writing this as I’m on my way to Virginia to watch Mobster’s daughter graduate from high school. My daughter is driving and scaring the crap out of me.

I swear, she’s a worse driver now than when she was first learning! And I say that knowing she ran into the garage door at about 2 mph before she got her learner’s permit. If I even make it to the hotel tonight it will be a fucking miracle. Plus, I’m being subjected to rap music on the first part of this journey.

So… on my way. Bowels of Hell. Hmmm…. Why the bowels of Hell, Sam?

Oh, you know. Being introduced to a bunch of people I don’t know, many of whom are her people. Her sister and brother-in-law. Her son she placed for adoption. Potentially spending the day with Batshit Crazy. At this point I wouldn’t be surprised to find out she had invited CF and Harley and they were both in attendance. Finally meeting the oldest son and grandson.

Honestly, it’s the title I came up with a few weeks back and I didn’t want a good title to go to waste. I’ve calmed down quite a bit.

The mobster assures me I will not encounter another child who, while cordial, wants nothing to do with me. He tells me that his oldest has always been supportive of his relationship with me. Still, I’m dealing with the nerves.

What if he hates me? What if he can’t figure out what on earth his dad sees in me? What if he thinks his dad can do so much better?

It doesn’t help that I am currently going through an intense ugly phase. I may not actually be ugly but I am feeling ugly. I’m fatter than I’ve ever been and it doesn’t seem that anything I do to my face or hair helps me look one bit better. I try to take solace in the fact that the mobster always thinks I’m beautiful. I guess that’s going to have to do it for now until I get out of this slump.

About those other people… Currently BSC’s sister, her husband, and son are all staying at the house with us. Ironically, I am Facebook friends with the brother-in-law. I don’t remember how that happened, but I know he sent me a friend request.

I am told they are both very chill people and have tried to remain neutral. Maybe I’m making more of a big deal of this than I should. It just seems weird to me to be spending the weekend with the STBX’s sister and brother-in-law.

I’m not sure if BSC’s other son will be there or not now. Once again the mobster is excited to introduce me to him and thinks I’ll really like him. I’m sure he’s amazing. However, she’s his biological mother. I’m the woman dating her STBX husband.

As far as she goes, well, I’m not at all excited about the prospect of spending the day with her. I know she’s made very unkind comments about me and my body and with me feeling the way I’m feeling the last thing I want to do is give her fodder for her insults.

A few months back Mobster had talked about possibly throwing the graduation party at his son’s house. I told him then that if it was there then she would undoubtedly be there because one of his sons would insist upon inviting her. Eventually he decided to have the party at his house. Only T’s half brother planned to come to the graduation and where he goes, his mother goes. So… we’re right back to her being at the house and at the party.

I seriously considered not going for a week or two. I ended up telling him to ask T how she felt about it and if she would be uncomfortable having both of us there. She didn’t hesitate. Of course I was invited and if her mother couldn’t behave she would be escorted off the property.

Originally when he told her that I would be at the party she shrugged it off for the most part. Said it was no big deal and mentioned that maybe her boyfriend could come, too, then.

More recently, however, she said she would just drop off the hotdogs and buns. Seems she’s now not going to attend the party because she “can’t bear to see him with his girlfriend.” That’s me. “Yeah, because it was so much fun seeing you and David together at all those soccer and softball games,” was his response.

That’s right, folks. She’s living with her boyfriend. Has been since the day she walked out on him and their kids. But she can’t bear to see him with me.

I know I caught flak for referring to her as batshit crazy, but she is. Truly. On one hand she is now accusing him of breaking her back (yes, really!), saying first it was when he pushed a bookcase over on her and then when he was sitting on top of her and pouring alcohol down her throat. On the other hand, the night she told him she wasn’t coming to the party she told him she missed him and missed his laugh.

Their divorce is postponed right now because her lawyer has asked to be recused from the case. Her lawyer was appointed a judge, and will step into that role in July. Apparently this fine, upstanding person who wouldn’t tell a lie if her life depended upon it, is not returning her lawyer’s calls so she is unable to finish up the case before her appointment.

Once her lawyer is recused Mobster’s lawyer can reach out to her and offer to write up the paperwork and get this finished. Of course, I fully believe she will ignore her as well, which is why I told Mobster he should do one of two things.

Option #1 would be to tell her if she doesn’t want to get divorced, that’s fine. He’ll sell the house, take all the proceeds and move to Indiana. He only has to share with her if they actually divorce. I’m not completely serious about that but hopefully it would light a fire under her ass.

Option #2 is to tell his lawyer to reach out to her with their offer and give her a two week deadline. After that set up a damn court date with a judge.

For whatever reason she doesn’t want a divorce. Living with one man while she’s married to another is perfectly fine with her.

I’ve been told by friends and family not to breathe too easily with the news she won’t be attending. As Sweet J said, “Oh, she’ll show up. Expect her to make a scene.”

Yes, that’s what I’m afraid of. Into the bowels of Hell I go. Wish me luck.

The Delusional Side Chick, Part 4

We are not together, but we are. I provide him support and honest advice as he determines the steps he needs to take to really get what he wants. He wants a family, and has done an incredible amount of things to work towards that goal.

I’m a vegetarian, but I eat meat. I can swim, but I can’t. We’re not together but we are. We fuck but we don’t fuck. I don’t really know what words mean…

He provides proof of action and transparency, and has now been living life through compromise, rather then control.

I’ve followed the heartbreaking story of him and his long term chick, and I can say, that to me, his break up with her, is also a break up for me and her. She was my secret too. She very much so, was a part of my life, but may never really know it. He kept her a secret, but I kept my suspicions of her a secret too.

Lucy, you and the long-term girlfriend did not “break up”. You’ve been fucking her boyfriend for years now and he’s finally left her, or so he says. Now you get to be the long-term girlfriend and he’ll find some other side chick. Stop trying to fool yourself. You always knew about her. You just didn’t care.

I hope my story as the “side chick” can help other women like her find their self worth.

Again I say, you are one delusional bitch, Lucy. How on earth do you think you banging her boyfriend has helped her find her self-worth?

Though she currently struggles to find ways to get him back, he has set his boundaries. He has stated his intentions with me to everyone but her, but I hope that he finds enough courage and respect for her, to come clean with her too.

<chuckle> He’s set his boundaries, all right. Don’t you find it a little strange that he’s stated his intentions towards you to everyone but her? I can believe I’m just an old, bitter, untrusting woman but what that tells me is he’s not ready to cut the cord with her. She is still useful to him.

I think that it’s important in this situation, to push past fears and really fight for what we want. I wanted the truth, and I got it. I wanted a best friend, and I got it, and in the end, when I want a relationship, whether it’s with him or someone else, I’ll have that too.

You wanted the truth but you probably never really got that. What little truth you did gain you only learned when he was caught. If he is your idea of a best friend you have no standards. As far as having a relationship with him if you want it, well, I’m sure he’ll fuck you, but you don’t control whether or not he decides to be in a relationship with you. You most certainly don’t control whether he’s faithful to you. With his track record I’d be wary. Then again you have the sparks so you’ll probably be okay. <eye roll>

I was willing to let him go, though it was painful for me, to seek what I really wanted, and when he wasn’t giving me what I deserved, I left. I wanted to help him, just as long as he was willing to accept my help.

Lucy, you were cleaning up beer bottles, washing dirty dishes and throwing away used condoms and sex toys. You knew he had a long-term girlfriend. You knew there were others. You pick me danced for years. You are not a shining example of what to do or how to stand up for yourself.

Just because some relationships are not a good match, does not mean that the people in those relationships, are inherently bad. In his relationship to her, she was an enabler, and he was the toxin. For him and I, I provided boundaries, and set the example that he realized that he wanted. He became honest, open, and though he felt fear, he was willing to learn how to ignore that fear to fight for what he wanted, using a voice that he didn’t realize was so powerful.

Or maybe his long-term girlfriend didn’t clean his apartment as well as you.

Not all disasters have a happy ending, but if this is the recipe to having one, then I’m willing to share it.

Please don’t. This is a dreadful recipe. There is nothing appealing about this.

…For all of the people who are willing to read through my not so well thought out story, I hope that this story can show that sometimes sacrifice can bring rewards, but sometimes those rewards aren’t something that the ones who sacrificed can really see. Here’s to hoping that in situations like mine, those of us who have sacrificed, at least get brownie points from karma.

Wait one damn second! You actually think you are going to get karma brownie points for your role in all of this? Only if those brownie points have Ex-Lax baked into them!

The Delusional Side Chick, Part 3

In the end, the feel good was always temporary, and a little less each time. I cleaned up the thousands of half empty two year old beer bottles, I happily put on gloves and picked up and threw out his spent condoms from his hundreds of past partners, I tossed a few hundred sex toys hidden in the coffee table, under his couch, in his beer cartons, and under his bed. I was not happy about the situation, but I was determined to make a positive impact on him during the short bursts of time that I had with him.

Who’s the enabler now, Lucy?

I wanted him to know what it was like to come home to his house, where there wasn’t a stench of dried cum, moldy beer, and dirty dishes soaking into the walls. I have my own house, and I know depression well. If I’m going to make an impact on anyone, I want above all, for it to be a good one. I know what struggle is like, and I did a lot of it to myself, but in my situations, when I was truly alone, I got myself out of it. I was the perfect antidote.

As much as you deride the long term girlfriend for being an enabler, from all that you’ve written you enabled him much more than she did. When you find yourself throwing out used condoms and tossing away sex toys… I don’t even have words for this. Everything you’ve accused the long-term girlfriend of you are guilty of yourself, multiplied by infinity.

You were not a positive example, or a “perfect antidote”. You were being used. You were the perfect appliance. You were the perfect whipping girl. You were just too delusional to see it. Because sparks.

As I helped him, his skin brightened up, he seemed happier, he told me he loved me, but the lying and cheating continued.

Imagine that!

I began to get fed up. Four months in, on our most recent decision to get back together, I got hard proof of the other women. I addressed the problem to him, showed him evidence that I knew everything, and provided him a safe space to come clean in.

Hard proof of other women? Girl, where have you been? You knew there were other women because he had a long-term girlfriend. Who the hell did you think he was using the sex toys on? Himself? Did he use a condom to masturbate?

Thankfully, you provided him a safe space in which to come clean. That’s the number one reason most liars don’t ‘fess up. Lack of a safe space. Maybe we should round them up and drop them off at fire stations. Then the truth could come pouring out like manna from Heaven.

The number two reason they don’t ‘fess up? They’re liars.

Though he became transparent and willing to compromise with me on most things, he still stood by his longest secret… the main girl.

Wow- he was transparent and willing to compromise on most things. Like, he was willing to tell you how much he could bench press or how he really felt about Grey’s Anatomy’s newest storyline, or if he really liked your pot roast, but he wasn’t quite willing to stop fucking other women? Gotta draw the line somewhere. He is positively opaque when it comes to the other women!

Lucy, she is not a secret. She never was. You admitted you knew about her but ignored her existence from the very beginning. She was his whipping girl, remember? You tried so hard to give her clues and get her to recognize her self-worth.

A week later I gave him one last chance to come clean, and he didn’t take it, so during that one night he spent with her, I walked in on him and her. I was respectful, got my things that I had purposely left at his house, calmly sat down next to her and told her about the other women, waved goodbye, and left.

Well aren’t you just a sweetheart! That’s so thoughtful of you to let her know about all the other women. I’m sure there was no hidden agenda.

He tried to make it work with the main girl, but she enabled him, so he began to cheat again. I went no contact again.

She enabled him so he cheated. You didn’t enable him (in your mind) and he still cheated. Maybe the problem isn’t her so much as it is him. And you, because you keep making excuses for him.

Then, to my surprise, he broke things off with her, he decided to work on himself, and realized that he no longer wanted to lead a life of risky promiscuity, and coping through vices.

I love a happy ending. <eye roll>