My Own Facebook Post

OK, I’m not really going to make my own Facebook post to combat Asshat’s but I do want to reflect upon what I’m grateful for.

Unlike Cousinfucker I don’t have to reach out to my kids through Facebook (even though my daughter has him blocked and our son doesn’t even have a FB page). I see them every day. I tell them every day I love them and to have a good day. Unlike him I know that they hear me when I say those things because I get an, “I love you,” right back.

On Wednesday before Turkey Day my daughter took me out for breakfast. Her treat. And she was the one who asked me if I wanted to go. We ended up having the best time. She just talked and talked and told funny stories. She had me laughing constantly. I’ve missed that. I feel like I’m missing out on so much of their lives, especially with this crazy schedule I’ve had lately. Going in at 1:30 in the morning I’m going to bed around 6. I get 2 or 3 hours tops with my kids. But on Wednesday Rock Star and I ate breakfast, went shopping, and talked and laughed.

I took Picasso to get his hunter’s license on Thanksgiving so his uncle could take him out. We had a good conversation, too. He got a little frightened with my driving for some reason, apparently thinking I can’t judge distances too well, but I assured him that if anyone died in the crash it would be me. He told me he didn’t want me to die and when I told him he didn’t need to worry about having to go live with his dad he told me he didn’t want me to die because he loved me. Contrast that with his declaration that his dad is dead to him. While he thinks he’s too big to sit on my lap anymore (okay, he is about 5’10 and weighs a good 220 but he’s still my baby and my lap is always open) he is always leaning in to kiss me and tell me he loves me.

In other news as expected Cousinfucker is getting plenty of sympathy on his Thanksgiving Facebook post. Someone (I believe I refer to her as Daniella later on) that he used to work with told him not to give up on them, just to keep letting them know how much he loves them. Eventually they will come around and be able to make their own decisions.

That’s adorable. I’d love to throw caution to the wind and reply on his page: Your sympathy is admirable but save it for someone who really needs it, like his kids. This is the first time he’s mentioned his kids since June. He walked out the door in February and hasn’t set eyes on them since. To be clear, it isn’t because they’ve told him not to come see them. He hasn’t even bothered to ask. This FB post is as far as he’s going to go to reach out to his kids. He doesn’t call; he doesn’t text. Aside from their birthday cards they haven’t heard a peep out of him since June. He lived with his kids for six months after they got the news we were divorcing because of his affair and he didn’t bother with talking to them, reaching out to them, or offering to take them anyplace during that time either. He hasn’t sent child support since May. He forced them to move out of their home and transfer schools. He couldn’t pay for his own daughter’s $80 Homecoming dress but he could spend over $300 on a dress for his whore’s daughter. He didn’t have the money to pay his half of the household bills (or to pay for the damn dress for his daughter) but he had over $4k to spend on an engagement ring for his mistress. In that same month she was able to spend over $400 on sports equipment for her kids, another $167 at Vera Bradley, over $400 on utility bills, and hundreds on eye care- all out of the joint checking account they opened while he was still married (and before his wife even know he was having yet another affair with her) and taking from his own children to support her and hers. He couldn’t be bothered to be engaged with his own kids while he plays Daddy of the Year to four kids who already have a father. His kids have nothing to do with him not because of their evil mother’s influence but because he’s a selfish, entitled asshole who chose a whore and her four kids over his own. He’s never offered a heartfelt apology to either of them. He never bothered to reach out and check on them after finding out we were forced to move out of the state. Never asked a single question about how they were adjusting, how they liked their new schools, how it was living where they were living. Certainly never apologized for forcing his daughter to transfer schools right before her junior year.

Here- let me sum this up in a much more concise statement:  Outside of Facebook he never gives them another thought. Facebook is nice and public so everyone can see his grand declarations. It’s no fun texting or calling your kids; no one can see that! He posted that drivel so everyone could see his very public gesture and in turn would feel sorry for him. You all fell for it, suckers!

You know what, readers? In the end, no matter what kind of bullshit he pulls, no matter how bad off financially I am, I have won. My kids love me; they value me. He has no idea what kinds of things they like, who their friends are, what they want to do with their lives. He doesn’t get to talk to them, joke around with them, eat dinner with them, drive them around. He has no idea who they are as people. He will never watch our kids graduate from high school. Neither of them want him there. Hell, he doesn’t even know which schools they attend. He will never watch Picasso at an orchestra concert or watch Rock Star cheering. If our son ends up playing football he won’t be around to give him tips, coach him from home, or watch him play. He won’t know if or where our kids end up going to college or what they choose to do for a career. He will not be the one to walk our daughter down the aisle should she ever marry; he won’t even be invited to the wedding. He won’t be around for our son’s wedding either should he ever marry. If grandchildren are a part of the future he will never know them. He won’t even know they exist.

The sad part is I’m sure he would say the whore is worth it. She has to be now that he’s lost everything. I don’t really care whether he thinks she’s worth it or not. I know I’ve got the better deal. For that I’m grateful.

Spitting Nails, Part 2

This could also be entitled, “The Perils of Facebook” or “Why No Contact Is Awesome”. Honestly, I do so much better when I know absolutely nothing about what he’s doing. To be clear, I don’t seek this out. I’d also like to point out that seeing as how he’s claiming PTSD and all sorts of mental problems it’s not in my best interest to hide my head in the sand. You would be amazed at how many people end up getting tripped up by Facebook. Nonetheless, he infuriates me with his bullshit and his total oblivion to all the destruction he has caused.

I told you all that Cousinfucker has his new profile picture up. It’s a picture of him and Harley the Whore. Apparently, he has chosen to make his page public so my mom (and my lawyer) can read his page. I’ve been told he’s getting many comments about how happy he looks, how they’re so happy for him, how happiness looks good on him. Puke. Nothing like being told I made him miserable. Gosh, looks like not only is Harley a whore she’s also a happiness fairy! Good to know, Cousinfucker; good to know.

Then I’m told the whole reason Cousinfucker was posing with the whore’s youngest son was because he went to school with him for show and tell! Yes, instead of lamenting the fact that his own children didn’t write him gushing letters of appreciation for his service he chose to go to show and tell on Veteran’s Day with a fucking kid that doesn’t belong to him. That child HAS a father. I couldn’t get him to regularly attend parent-teacher conferences with me. His own son couldn’t get him to drop him off at school because the carpool lane freaked him out. He threw a royal fit when he had to go grab a dollar gift for his daughter’s school Christmas party. But he can certainly rise to the occasion for the whore’s kid. Nice.

Finally, a friend of his sent me a message today. This is the guy that I talk to as well and have for several years. He did say he figured Cousinfucker was having a public pity party on Facebook but he felt duty-bound to pass along the message. He told me he wasn’t going to let CF know he had passed it along but he felt I should have it.

Keep in mind this message is written with good ol’ dad posing with the whore that he left his family for.

I want to wish my children a Happy Thanksgiving. It is doubtful that they will see this, but I wanted to express it anyway. I love you both immensely and miss you terribly. I hope you have a great Thanksgiving and always know that I love you like crazy. Nothing in the world can change the love I have for you.

What a load of shit! It starts out okay, I suppose.

I want to wish my children a Happy Thanksgiving.

It quickly veers into pity with that second sentence.

It is doubtful that they will see this, but I wanted to express it anyway.

Hey, why do you think they won’t see your wonderful sentiments, Cousinfucker? Could it be because you walked out of their lives without a backward glance? Could it be because you chose a whore and her four kids over your own flesh and blood? Could it possibly be because instead of wishing them a Happy Thanksgiving by sending them a card or calling them or even sending a text, you chose to post it publicly on Facebook?

That’s such a curious way to wish your children a Happy Thanksgiving and let them know how much you love and miss them. I don’t suppose you did that to garner pity, did you? Did you take that page right out of your mother’s book? She can’t interact with her grandkids unless it’s on a public stage. I see you’ve picked up that trick as well. Don’t bother to call. Don’t bother to text. Just post a bunch of self-pitying bullshit on Facebook so everyone can see how much you love and miss them. Bonus points- you may be able to convince people the entire reason you don’t have contact with them isn’t because of anything you may or may not have done but because I’m such a horrible bitch.

I love you both immensely and miss you terribly. I hope you have a great Thanksgiving and always know that I love you like crazy. Nothing in the world can change the love I have for you.

I appreciate the sentiment but I think we both know that a father who truly loves and misses his kids wouldn’t even dream of doing the things to them that you have. He wouldn’t drag them away from their friends and everything they love, dash their dreams, make them start all over, and then once they begin to rebuild their lives start cheating on their mother, forcing a divorce and yet more upheaval. He wouldn’t move out of the goddamn state he drug them to less than two years later, and he sure as shit wouldn’t move out without saying a fucking word to either of them. He wouldn’t force them to move out of their home, out of the state. He wouldn’t cost his daughter her driver’s license. He wouldn’t take away her great new life so he could get his dick sucked. He wouldn’t refuse to support them or be fine with them living in poverty. He wouldn’t play these stupid games with their mother because he would do the right thing. He wouldn’t let months go by without contacting them. You know what else he wouldn’t do? He wouldn’t post his fucking message on Facebook. He’d pick up a goddamn phone and actually talk to his fucking kids. If they don’t pick up leave a message! It’s a thing.

All that crap you just wrote? It’s all image management and self-pity. I’m just a poor man who loves his children unconditionally no matter how much they might reject me. Please Facebook friends, tell me how wonderful and noble I am. Tell me how my children will see the light one day. Tell me my mean, nasty wife won’t get away with turning them against me. Tell me what a wonderful father I am and how my kids are so lucky to have me.

So… I was just going to ignore this friend. Let’s call him Bob. I was just going to ignore Bob and all this bullshit but I was already in a shitty mood because of the court hearing and Cousinfucker’s request to modify his support. Quite honestly I’m tired of taking it on the chin and I’m tired of everyone acting like what he’s done is no big deal. I’m tired of his pity plays. Instead of ignoring it this time I replied.

I’m sure the four children he lives with appreciate the sentiment. I hope they see it and thank him appropriately although I’m not sure why he needs to post it on Facebook seeing as how he lives with them and sees them everyday.

Snarky? Yes. Did it feel good? You betcha!

It’s Veterans Day

November 11th. Veterans Day. I have to keep reminding self that just because Cousinfucker is a lying, cheating sonofabitch, that doesn’t mean every veteran is. I have to keep that in mind so that I don’t paint every service member with the same broad brush. I have plenty of people in my family who have served and they are not all assholes.

Regardless, this day has always been filled with lots of drama. I’ll never forget the year that he came home, pouting, because I had not wished him a Happy Veterans Day. From that point forward I always made it a priority to recognize this day and reminded the kids to thank him as well. So hey, if you or one of your minions is reading this: Happy Veterans Day to all those who have honorably served! To those veterans who are cheating on their spouses, abandoning their kids, refusing to pay child and/or spousal support, abusing their spouses, or plotting their murders, you are a disgrace to the military. I don’t wish you a happy anything. I fart in your general direction. It is truly sad that so many good men and women have given their lives while you continue to walk this earth. May God have mercy on your souls because I sure as hell won’t. You make me sick.

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In other news, I took the advice of those of you who said to screenshot his photos on Facebook. Actually, I made my mother do it because I can’t stand to look at him. I found out some interesting stuff, though.

  1. He lists his status as “in a relationship” with Harley the Whore.
  2. He’s got pictures of him posing with her youngest son. Nice!
  3. Harley the Whore has changed her name! And she’s going by her maiden name now so I guess her divorce is final.
  4. There are 2 dogs in the picture now. Good to know he can’t afford to pay child support, any of the marital debt, or to keep up the lawn but he can buy two fucking dogs. Not to mention the dogs he simply abandoned.
  5. This was the most interesting. He put up some meme about 100 days. We were trying to figure out what on earth that might mean. 100 days since he had paid child support? 100 days since he had abandoned his kids? 100 days since he began living with a whore? Hmmmm…. so my mom read the comments and we are both thinking that it is 100 days since he has stopped drinking. Interesting. Especially because the point at which he quit drinking (if that’s what it is) corresponds to roughly the time he resigned from his job.

 

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That’s all I’ve got for you today. Keep your chins up and “soldier” on!

Get In My Car and Drive, Part 2

Yep, she’s screwed. I called the DMV yesterday. They will recognize her provisional license but she would need to hold it for 6 months before she could get a license here. Days away from being licensed to drive and now it’s back to a learner’s permit for Rock Star.

Fortunately for me, but not for her of course, it wouldn’t have mattered if I found out this information when we first got here because HERE if they haven’t had their out of state license for 6 months and they haven’t taken Driver’s Ed IN THIS STATE they can’t get their license until they are 16 and 9 months. Lovely! So nothing she did before counts. I paid $200 for her to take Behind the Wheel for nothing. She got up at 6:30 in the morning to get ready for absolutely nothing. Now I get to call the insurance company and see if they will accept her Driver’s Ed from another state, or if she has to take Driver’s Ed in the state in which she was licensed in order for me to get the Driver’s Ed discount. Yeah, if CF were working I would absolutely demand he pay 100% for Driver’s Ed here or have to pay the difference in what I will have to pay for her. Seeing as how he’s busy with his fake nervous breakdown and fucking a whore I suppose I could still ask for it and a judge could still order it but it won’t mean a damn thing.

Rock Star is a true champ, though. After telling her last night (she didn’t ask right after school and I wasn’t eager to offer it up) she raged for a few minutes, calling this state fucking stupid (I agree, baby girl), lamenting the fact that I was still going to have to drive her around and that she was going to be the only junior without a license; then she cried (which was pitiful and made me cry).

It’s not fair! I did everything I was supposed to do and I even did it early! Now I have to start all over.

But this morning she seemed resigned to yet another shitty thing happening to her and she simply asked how soon we could go to the DMV so she could get her learner’s permit, and pointed out she could get her license in early March, which seemed to be an important distinction.

This is why I have stopped asking what else he could do. He always finds something. I realize this isn’t the end of the world. Hell, I have a 23 year old nephew who still doesn’t have his license, has no desire to even get one! But she wanted this and she was counting down the days. She wasn’t that kid that didn’t want to drive or get her license. No, she was down at the DMV the very first day she was eligible to get her permit.

Her not getting her license doesn’t affect Cousinfucker one little bit. He’s not the one that has to take another written test. He’s not the one that has to pay for yet another permit. He’s not the one who will be juggling schedules trying to get her to work once I begin working as well. He’s not the one getting up at 6 in the morning to catch a bus that comes at 6:45 so he can ride the bus to school (and she LOATHES having to take a bus; I’m sure she sees it as a huge humiliation.). He’s also not the one juggling schedules trying to get the kids to school if a bus is missed. He certainly wasn’t the one that had to break the news to his child or watch her cry from the disappointment. He spends his day going to his therapy appointments, fucking a whore, and watching his damn DirectTV that he had installed at the brothel. He pays $500 to have the whore’s daughter’s vehicle repaired and promises to buy her a new car but he doesn’t even give a shit if his selfish actions cause his daughter to remain unlicensed for another 6 months. Hey, this will give him 6 more months to blow money on the whore and her kids so that when his daughter does actually get to drive he can tell her he has no money to help out with purchasing a car.

I hate him. I really really do. I turned to my mom yesterday and asked her why he didn’t just come up here where we are and put a bullet in us instead of killing us slowly with all of this bullshit.

A Conversation With Rock Star

“Mom, do YOU think he’s crazy?”

I pause, giving great thought to this question my daughter has just asked.  She has already freely said she believes her dad is legitimately crazy.  She’s not a psychiatrist though so I’m not sure how much stock to put into her diagnosis.  After weighing my words carefully I give her my answer.

“No, I don’t think he’s crazy.  I think he’s living in a fantasy world.  I don’t know for certain where he’s working but I do know his big dream was to work side by side with his best friend.  He once told me he should have taken the job at Best Friend’s plant when Best Friend tried to get him to come work with him and that was one of his biggest regrets.  If I had to bet I would place money on the fact that Best Friend managed to get him a job at his company and they are now working together.  So he thinks he has his dream job and he thinks he has his dream woman.”

She turns up her nose at that comment.  I can’t say that I blame her.  But he does. I don’t tell her this part but he thinks that Harley and her performance are the real thing.  She loves him for who he is and she would never be with him for the money.  Oh no!  That was the evil, awful Sam who stuck around for the money.  Harley is going to be the perfect mate.  She’ll text him every time she takes a shit and let him know all about it.  She’ll tell him how handsome he is and coo over every little thing he does.  Best of all, every weekend it’s nonstop sex!

Here’s the thing.  I’m sure that for a period of time, maybe even a decent period of time, this will play out just fine.  He will live far enough away from her that he can’t live with her, thereby giving him four days to decompress and do whatever he wants.  Then for 3 days (2 1/2 if we want to be technical) he puts on his Dad of the Year/Companion of the Year mask and is all smiles and grand gestures.  When things start to bother him it’s time to return back to his home where he can chill in front of the television, drink some wine, and not have to deal with anyone.  He doesn’t have to help her get kids to activities.  He doesn’t have to help with homework.  He doesn’t have any of the daily grind you have when you actually live with someone day after day.  But eventually the newness will wear off.  It’s also quite possible that he will find out sooner, rather than later, that the love of his life is cheating on him.  Ouch! Again, not things I say out loud to her.

I do go on to tell her that I think eventually his perfect fantasy life is going to implode.  His best friend has switched companies quite a few times and I don’t see them staying at the same company, together, for another fifteen to twenty years.  I also don’t see Cousinfucker taking it too well when and if Best Friend becomes his boss.  I also don’t see Best Friend taking it too well if the situation was reversed.  I think they have this vision of what life is going to be like, them working together, and I don’t think reality is going to play out anywhere close to this dream of theirs.  They are two alpha males and I see them either clashing with one another, or them trying to take down their boss, which probably won’t go over well with him.  Even if my theory that he’s working with Best Friend is incorrect and he’s actually working somewhere completely different the same rules apply.  He will love it at first and then when he doesn’t get to dictate every single thing he’s going to begin pouting and decide he hates it.  Only now he’s stuck.

What I say to her in summation is that once the newness of his relationship wears off and he realizes what kind of a person Harley is, and once he realizes that working with Best Friend isn’t the dream he believes it will be, I think he is going to look back at everything he has given up- his wife of over 20 years, his two kids, a job that he’s held for more than 15 years, and he’s going to realize how severely he has screwed himself.

At this point in my “journey” I’m not sure if I’d rather see that day arrive and smirk knowingly, gleeful at his misery, or if I would prefer to truly not give a damn and just be able to shake my head and say, “Sucks to be you.”  Only time will tell, I suppose.

A Letter to My Kids

Hey Kids,

The time has come for you to find out that your mom is not all powerful.  That I am, in fact, human and I make mistakes.  So I want to apologize to both of you.

I’m sorry I picked such a wretched excuse for a human being to be your father.  He has failed you in ways I couldn’t even begin to imagine.  For years I listened to him whine on and on about his father and how he was rejected by him.  But you know what?  He always financially supported him and that’s more than I can say for your own dad.

I’m sorry I chose to be a stay at home mom instead of working a job so that when this time came I could support you without his help.  Don’t get me wrong.  I loved being at home with the two of you.  I loved being the one to take you places and plan school parties and volunteer at your schools.  I loved going on field trips and being here at home at the end of day.  I loved being able to watch you at all of your meets and games, being the one to drop you off and pick you up, being able to travel with you.  I truly did.  In hindsight, though, I never should have done it.  I should have worked.  I should have told your dad that his career wasn’t more important than my own job.  I should have followed my passion and done something with my life aside from being your mom.  I know that sounds like a shitty thing to say and I don’t mean it to be because, again, I loved being here for you.  I still do.  But I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place now.  I’m sinking fast and I’m taking both of you with me.

I’m sorry I didn’t stand up to him more and baby and cater to him less.  Maybe if that had been the case he would have left sooner and I would have more options.  Maybe it would have helped and he never would have done any of this.

I’m sorry I can’t keep you here through graduation, Rock Star.  I cry every time I think about it even though everyone tells me you’re going to be fine.  I’m going to end gymnastics for you forever.  I’m going to take away you being captain for your team.  I know high school gymnastics was not what you wanted and won’t take you to college but it was better than no gymnastics at all.  I’m taking you from a place where you are a very big fish in a pretty small pond and I’m going to turn you into a goldfish in the ocean, if goldfish could survive in salt water.  I feel like I’m ruining your high school experience and I am so so sorry for that, my sweet girl.  Once again, I listened to your dad whine for years about how he was constantly moved as a child and never attended the same school each year.  He never switched high schools though, a privilege he is denying you.

I’m sorry I couldn’t do whatever it was that I needed to do to stay married and give you two a stable home, even if one of your parents wasn’t always sane or even around much.  If I knew what I did wrong, or what I didn’t do that he wanted me to do, I would have taken the appropriate action.  But I have no idea what it is I did or didn’t do that made your dad choose to have an affair.  Honestly, I know  that I can only be responsible for my own actions and he is responsible for his.  I am truly sorry, though, that I couldn’t make this marriage work.

Finally, I am so sorry I agreed to this move.  I am so sorry I tore your lives apart for this shit storm we are in now.  I’m sorry for the pool that we are probably never going to swim in even though we’ve spent a crapload of money on it.  I’m sorry about your friends and your sports and your schools.  I’m sorry about everything that you’ve had to lose and all that you’re still going to lose.  I’m sorry I don’t have a home of our own to move us to.  I’m sorry for all the dreams you have that aren’t going to come true because we have to leave.  I’m sorry for all the plans that you are making that aren’t going to happen.  I’m sorry we’re going to be poor and your lives are going to be turned so far around you aren’t even going to recognize them.  I’m sorry for everything.

Your uncle tells me every time I say that that it’s not me who is ruining your lives- it’s your dad.  I’m here, though, and he’s not.  So I’m the one who is apologizing.  I cannot apologize enough for what is going to become of your lives.  I would say I should have picked better but then I wouldn’t have you two.  At any rate, I failed you both, and for that I’m sorry.  I’ll do my very best to make it up to you somehow.  I promise.

Love,

Mom

Just When You Think He Can’t Sink Lower…

Today has sucked.  I got through Valentine’s Day no problem.  That day does not bother me at all.  I woke up today and all Hell has broken loose.  So much for cleaning up my potty mouth because I am pissed beyond belief.

I woke up with a message from my pool contractor, asking me if there was any news or if they should get a lawyer.  I replied that my lawyer was working on it and that I thought Cousinfucker would pay; he was just taking his sweet time.

For some reason I decided to look at my bank account and see if the support payment had been made.  Since September Cousinfucker has had payments directly deposited into my account.  It wasn’t there.  Shit!  Has he decided to fuck with me since he had to move out?  Or is it something far more nefarious?  That little nagging voice in the back of my head wouldn’t go away.

I call my lawyer and tell him my support payment has not been deposited.  I go on to tell him that I have no idea if he’s quit his job, moved out of state, just wants to fuck with me…. I have no clue.  I do tell him that as long as we’ve been married his company has always deposited his paycheck early if payday occurs on a Sunday or a holiday.  He tells me to give it until 2 pm tomorrow in case there is simply a small snafu with the holiday schedule.

While I had been chatting with my mom I texted Cousinfucker’s boss and asked him if Cousinfucker still worked there.  A few hours later I get a reply.  Sam, Cousinfucker resigned several weeks ago.  I wish you both the best.

First of all, WTF?  And second of all, WTF?  I think the best for me has just flown by.  My husband is fucking his cousin and has abandoned me and my kids.  It’s a little late for well wishes!  And seriously?  Did the asshole really quit his job?  Oh yes he did!

I quickly sent another text asking him if he knew whether or not Cousinfucker had received his bonus check before resigning and if he knew where he went.  Remember, Cousinfucker is not responding to me or to his kids.  Turns out part of the reason behind that is because his phone was company property so he no longer has it.

In the meantime I find out that he has left the fucking state.  Yes, that’s right.  Cousinfucker moved me and my kids here, ripped our lives apart, and then turns around and a year and a half later LEAVES THE FUCKING STATE!  Dammit!  I was just beginning to feel settled somewhat.  I had a plan.  Some of my fears were being alleviated.  I knew where to get insurance.  I figured out how I was going to pay for my daughter’s graduation party. I had a plan for how I was going to pay my taxes.  Now?  Poof!  All of that is up in smoke.  Son Of A Bitch!

His boss eventually texted me back and let me know that Cousinfucker was going back home (no, he’s not) and that all other questions should be directed to him.  I texted back:  Thanks for all of your help.  The kids and I sure do appreciate it.

As it stands I don’t have a way to contact him unless I use my kids as a conduit.  I guess I could correspond with his family but I have no stomach for that.  I could possibly also unblock him on Facebook and send him a message that way.  He has left without a word to either of his kids.  His support payment is not in the bank. I don’t know if he plans on paying it or not.  I don’t know if he got his bonus check or not.  I think he probably did because his last direct deposit was January 31st.  I have no idea when, or if, Cousinfucker is planning on paying off the pool.  I have no idea, when, or if, he’s planning on paying me my portion of the bonus check.  I don’t know if he still has insurance on me and the kids.  I don’t know if I’m going to be able to get the bonus included in his annual salary now that he has quit.  I don’t know if he’s making a ton more money at this new job.  I don’t know what’s going to happen with all the unvested stock he had.  I mean, I know he’s not entitled to it but I don’t know if he’ll have to reimburse me for a portion of what I would have received, or if they will be able to use that in income calculations.  He walked away from a job of 15 years.  Oh, God!  I don’t know if my original plan is going to go through.  I had wanted to stay here until my daughter had graduated.  I hate the thought of moving her her junior year.  I really do. Hell, for all I know this new company will offer him a buyout on the house and I’ll either have to accept it and get out now, or he’ll try to make me take on the house and any losses associated with it.  I don’t know if I’m ever going to be able to swim in this damn pool that we’ve paid so much fucking money for. I have no idea what he’s planning on doing as far as taxes go.  Is he going to file jointly, or married separately?  Who the fuck knows?  And how will I get any portion of the refund, or will that be yet another thing he tries to keep from me?  I don’t know anything right now.  This sucks so hard!  I hate him.  It’s really hard to get to “Meh” when he keeps fucking with me and the kids.

The good news is I received a lovely gift basket from a fellow cheated on mom/friend.  It included wine!  And I’ve gained about 10 pounds of the 25 pounds I lost originally on the divorce diet.  Thanks to asshole and his machinations I have felt sick to my stomach all day and have had nothing more than a grilled cheese!  Maybe I’ll drop 5 pounds.  Motherfucker!

A New Medical Breakthrough- Personality Transplants!

Logically, I know such a thing does not exist.  It is so tempting though to try to convince myself that surely there was something I could have done differently.  Or, maybe he is correct when he says (most frequently to my kids!) that we didn’t have a happy marriage, we had grown apart (once we had kids, of course), and my favorite, we just aren’t good together.  I will admit that some days I think that maybe he’s a different person with her.  Afterall, it was like pulling teeth to get him to even do anything FUN with us most of the time.  He had too many “issues” to go out to dinner with his own kids on their birthdays, but he can go out to dinner with no problem with his fake family.  He can spend Christmas Eve trolling the mall, spending hundreds of dollars on kids that aren’t his, but he couldn’t be bothered to personally hand his own kids the gift cards he bought them (he left them on the counter with a note) or to text/call them on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day.

I think back to how he told his sister that Harley made him happy.  I’ve spent two years stewing over that, asking myself why I couldn’t make him happy despite everything I did for him.  Some days I am almost able to convince myself that he is correct and that we were just bad for each other and he now has a chance to be happy.  Harley obviously has something that I don’t; she’s his ticket to happiness and I need to face facts that they are a better match.

Then I throw my head back, let out a loud guttural laugh, probably snort a few times, and say, “Wake the fuck up!  There is no such thing as a personality transplant.  He’s the same miserable person he’s always been and always will be.”  That’s the short pep talk.  The longer one goes into how he’s traded me in for a much cheaper model with a hell of a lot of more miles on her. That he found and bought her at the impound auction.  That she’s already fooled around with other men while telling him he’s her one and only Schmoopie Bear, and that she will continue to do so.  That her kids trash talk him behind his back.  It’s a very long talk but it makes me feel better.

Here’s the thing:  I don’t really believe a leopard will change its spots.  I think a person can bring out the worst in you (or the best, to be fair), but I also believe that you are who you are.  I may have lost a lot of who I was in my marriage while trying so hard to please him and keep everything together, but I was still me.  I am basically a happy, outgoing person.  I tend to see the glass as half full instead of half empty. And if that half full/half empty glass is filled with vodka all the better.  I try to make the best of any situation I am in; I get involved and try to make friends.  Sure, in new situations I tend to hang back and assess the scene.  I am often leading the charge, but I’m also perfectly happy hanging back and let others take over.  I try to see the best in people- except CF and Harley- they’re lost causes.  At the root of it I am a happy person.  I’ve heard it said once that there are people who could be happy with their lives even while living in Cleveland and there are those who wouldn’t be happy even if they lived in Hawaii (feel free to insert wonderful destination of your choice if Hawaii doesn’t do it for you).  I’m happy in Cleveland.  CF is miserable in Hawaii.

Who he was with me is who he’s going to be with her.  Oh sure, right now everything is great (except for her sleeping with her husband- allegedly).  Add to that the fact that he’s a part time soul mate.  I’m sure the drive is getting to be tiresome but hey, he doesn’t have to worry about helping her out with her kids’ homework, or getting them ready for bed, or shuffling them around.  He isn’t expected to help out with laundry or the dishes, and if he does it’s a novelty and not something he HAS to do on a regular basis.  I’m sure there is still an element of them against me even though I don’t speak to him.  And let’s face it, it’s so exciting when you only see a person for 2 or 3 days out of the week.  You can pour all of your energy into that person and it doesn’t get tiring at all because you get a FUCKING 5 DAY BREAK FROM HIS CRAZY!!!

If it ever does get to the point where he moves in with her and her brood he will be the same killer of joy, the same soul sucking vampire, the same neurotic mess, the same unimaginative couch potato with her that he was with me.  He will eventually revert back to ordering kids out of “his” chair, or “his” spot on the couch.  He will eventually revert back to shutting himself in the bedroom and watching tv nonstop.  He will eventually no longer find the chaos of four kids charming. He’s not a different person.  He hasn’t suddenly evolved into Mr. Personality because he’s finally found the love of a good woman.  Oh my God, I think I choked on that phrase!  Let me change it slightly.  He hasn’t suddenly evolved into Mr. Personality because he’s finally found the love of a gold digging whore.  Hmmmm…. can gold digging whores love anyone?

When he gets bad news he will end up lying catatonic on a bed, unable to move and forcing her to take charge and make it all better.  When some small snafu hits he will still end up in a tizzy that rivals one of a teenage girl. When he gets sick he will act like he is dying and expect her to drop everything and tend to his every need as proof she loves him.  He will never be a full partner or a good dad.  He will continue to turn mole hills into mountains and he will continue to see himself as the Great Victim.  He might possibly move away from his children and get a new job because he’s so unhappy at this one, but he’s going to end up hating his new job just as much.  Why?  Because when you get down to it he is not a happy person.  He loves being miserable.  He doesn’t know what to do if he is happy.  His semen demon does not have special powers to turn him into someone he’s not.

I think it’s very important for anyone who is dealing with infidelity to tell yourself this and to let it sink in.  Believe it!  It’s true.

But they look so happy on Facebook, you may be saying.  WHO CARES?  Facebook is generally a big fat lie.  I can assure you that no one reading my Facebook page would have had any idea of what was going on in my life.  Hell, I don’t think most people reading my Facebook page NOW have any idea what’s going on, unless I’ve already shared with them.  This sums it up in absolutely the best way:  When you compare your life to a person’s Facebook page you are comparing your behind-the-scenes to their highlight reel.

OF COURSE the cheater and the whore are going to be all gushy and gooey and lovey dovey on Facebook.  I have had it pointed out that in the cheater’s mind it *must* be true in order for them to justify all the destruction they’ve caused.  Who wants to publicly announce they’ve made a huge mistake in tossing aside their wife and kids (or husband and kids for those males who have been cheated on) for some side piece that was a definite downgrade? They are giving you the highlight reel! That’s why Harley might post something like this:  Look at all the fantastic gifts Schmoopie Bear gave me!  How did he know to buy me a vibrator to keep me “happy” during the week so I wouldn’t continue to screw around with other men???  I am so blessed, so happy!  I couldn’t ask for anything more.

What you will never see though is:  How in the hell did his wife put up with his shit for twenty plus years????  I ask him to take one kid to soccer practice and you’d think I had asked him to donate his live, beating heart for a transplant!  Where is my husband when I need him????

Or:  I work full time, too!  Why am I the one stuck doing all the cooking, cleaning, shopping, and laundry?  I feel like I’ve got five kids and not four.  Maybe it’s not too late to get my husband back….

Oh this is fun!  Here’s another one:  I thought I had met my Prince Charming.  Well, since he’s my cousin I actually had met him years ago.  But I thought once I lured him away from his wife he would be MY Prince Charming finally.  He cooked, he cleaned, he bought us lots of shiny stuff, he made pancakes for my kids, he was always up for fun outings.  Now that we’re living together he just sits in the bedroom and watches TV.  He doesn’t want to go anywhere, just wants to sit around and drink.  And since he has to pay child support and spousal support he can’t buy us stuff all the time!  I’m stuck doing EVERYTHING.  He can’t even run to McDonald’s and pick up a couple of orders of pancakes for my kids now.  Boy, did I get fooled!

Similarly, CF will never acknowledge the fact that he chose a woman who is already unfaithful to him while I remained faithful for over 21 years. Or that he chose a woman and children who value him for his wallet and nothing more while he tossed away the woman who spent years following him around the country and helping him to build his career, and the children that loved him and wanted his TIME and ATTENTION.

How do I know all of this?  First, I’m really smart.  Second, I read a lot.  Third, I’ve seen it play out already in his family.  But I’ll save that story for another time.  Suffice to say, though, that the exact same things that were said about Husband #2 in order to justify dumping Husband #1, were then said almost verbatim about Husband #3 in order to justify dumping Husband #2.

There was no personality transplant.  Not for her, and not for him.  There was just a cheater’s handbook, and they all play the same game.

Things I Worry About Today

Yesterday was a melancholy day for some reason.  I thought maybe writing out some of my worries might help to alleviate them.  Worst case scenario I can look back in a year or two and laugh.  “Oh, Sam, can you believe you ever worried about *that*?”

I worry about what I’m going to do when we’re finally divorced.  I’ll have no insurance.  No prescription coverage.  No dental.  No vision.  I’m a relatively healthy person but it would be just my luck that when I have no insurance I would be suddenly hit with a catastrophic accident or illness.

I worry about the house and what’s going to happen there.  On the one hand I know I don’t want to stay here for the long term.  I’m hoping for another 2 1/2 years.  By the time we are finally divorced it will be less than 2 years I’ll need a place to stay around here.  I don’t want to be left trying to sell the house on my own.  Quite frankly I think if we end up taking a loss he should be responsible for 100% of it seeing as how it was his own bone-headed, erection-driven decisions that led to us selling 2-3 years after buying it.  I also know I absolutely cannot refinance the house in my name alone, and even if we did a quit claim (?) I’m back to the whole “I don’t want to be responsible for selling the house and dealing with any repairs plus any huge financial losses”.  But I’m also not sure where I can rent in my kids’ school district that will also accept pets.  Did I mention I have 3 dogs and 3 cats?  See, I used to own my own home and I kind of arranged my life around that.  I didn’t make decisions based upon, “What if my husband leaves me for his skank ass cousin?”  This is now my dilemma. My hope is that the divorce is not finalized until late this year and that a judge, if it goes to court, will give me 12-18 months before I need to put the home up for sale.

I worry about what’s going to happen when my daughter graduates.  I know I still have time, but a year ago I would have said that she was going to have a fabulous party and we’d give her a wonderful graduation gift- probably a destination trip.  Now I have no idea what I’m going to be able to do.  Graduation gift?  Don’t make me laugh.  I’ll be lucky if I manage to scrape together enough money to throw a graduation party for her- a graduation party that will be sparsely attended for that matter.  I have like 3 friends here- 2 of them have daughters that will have already graduated by the time mine does so I’m not sure how much I’ll be interacting with them.  Most of my friends are in YYY state.  Cousinfucker and his family won’t be in attendance.  I’m going to have a party with less than 20 people in attendance.  For a graduation.  I’m thinking she will be better off just going out to dinner with us.  That goddamn motherfucking pig shit wearing waste of oxygen breathing cousinfucker has taken all this away from my child!  And I hate him for that.  I honestly do not care about him at all as a husband.  Run away, Cousinfucker!  Go fuck your cousin and tell your mommy all about it.  But DO NOT FUCK WITH MY KIDS!  I’m thinking about the graduation announcements and senior pictures.  Hell, do we need to rent or buy caps and gowns?  I graduated over 25 years ago; I honestly don’t remember what we did, and even if I did I’m sure it has changed.

I worry that my kids will have issues down the road.  And I sometimes wonder if my son is taking this too well.  Sometimes I tell myself that it is the benefit of having a father who wasn’t very involved anyway; the kid doesn’t miss him.  But other times I wonder, “Is it natural to be this blasé about your father’s disappearance in your life?”  My son has actually told people, “My dad is dead to me.”  He cares nothing about him.  My daughter is still willing to text him in order to get her allowance or to wish him a happy birthday or even to thank him for the Christmas gift.  My son?  Does.Not.Care.  He’s said outright he does not care if his dad ever gives him another dime.  He tells me there’s nothing he needs.  When I told him he needed to at least text his dad to thank him for the gift card he told me he didn’t have his number; he had deleted him from his contacts.  And he has mentioned more than once that he can no longer trust his dad, that he thinks his dad just used him to try to get him on “his side”, as my son puts it.

Honestly, I figured if one of the kids was more reluctant to take sides it would be him.  He longed for a relationship with his dad.  But he’s the one that he has really distanced himself.  That boy could give classes on No Contact.  My daughter is more practical.  She’s willing to deal with her dad in order to get her allowance and her long promised car.

That brings me to my next worry.  Her having a car would really help me out.  She could drive herself to her own practices.  She could drive herself and her brother to school.  That would give me a little more freedom in regards to getting a job.  However, my guess is Cousinfucker is once again going to plead poverty when it comes time to buying her a car.  Let’s give the poor guy a break.  He’s already promised a car to Harley’s daughter and it’s really tough buying two cars.  If you have to choose between your whore’s kid and your own child what sensible person is going to choose their own?  Am I right?  And seeing as how I’m already paying *his* car insurance I’m not seeing where he’s going to stand up and pay for her car insurance.

I worry about her a lot.  I worry she’s putting too much pressure on herself.  I worry she won’t have good relationships with boys.  I worry about her migraines.  I worry about the anxiety she says she’s feeling.

I wonder (not worry) whether or not I’ll be alone for the rest of my life.  Will I ever find someone else?  Someone who will treat me right.  Someone who will want to go places with me and do things with me.  Someone who will want to be a part of my family.  Someone who will embrace my kids and enjoy hanging out with them, too. Someone who isn’t a drama queen.  Someone who isn’t a miserable shit eating chimp and who won’t bring everyone around him down with him.  Someone who won’t fuck his cousin.  It’s those little things, ya know?

Honestly, I know I don’t *need* another man in my life.  If I look back over the last twenty-one years I feel like I was pretty much on my own the entire time.  I guess maybe we had a good five years before kids came along and he became a gigantic pain in my ass.  Becoming a parent changed my life.  It didn’t seem to change his, though.  And that’s where the problem is.  He still wanted a doting wife that tended to his every need.  After I took care of everything else.

But I would *like* to have someone I could share my life with.  It would be nice, as I said above, if there was someone out there who was willing to go places with me, do things with me.  When I am reluctant to do something, or don’t have the energy to do something, it would be nice to have someone cheering me on.  “Come on, Sam; it will be fun!  I’ll be right there with you.”  Instead I got, “Okay, let’s just go home.”  Or even better, he just wasn’t there to begin with.

I see friends who have husbands that actually *interact* with them and with the kids.  I think that would be nice.  Not a necessity but nice.  The guy that is, not the interaction.

In the end it’s all the not knowing that worries me the most.  I suppose time will tell.  Here’s to hoping that when I look back on this list in a year I’ll be able to laugh.

Some Days I (Want To) Cry, and Others I’m Just Pissed Off

 

It is no secret I’m a big fan of Chump Lady.  And if you don’t know that by now I am obviously not gushing over her enough.  I think she rocks.  She has explained a number of times that she uses the language that she uses on her blog to get people angry, to jolt “chumps” out of their chumpdom.  I say, “Thank God!”  Because I do tend to try to stay very level headed.  I try very hard not to let him get to me and not to let the rage simmer over into a full boil.  It would be so easy to let the rage consume me and let myself completely lose control and go ape shit on his ass.  But I don’t.  I’m looking long range.

There are times though that I get really pissed.  It pisses me off when I think of how blithely he lied to me.  He flat out lied to my face without a second thought.  He waltzed into our bedroom and announced he was thinking of birthday gift ideas for his mom and perhaps he would get her and his stepdad new phones and pay the bill since they only had pay as you go phones.  LIAR!  But, man, was he smooth as silk.  I had no idea my husband could lie to me that easily.

I texted him all summer while the kids and I were away visiting friends and family.  Every morning (or most mornings, I should probably say) I would snap a picture and send it to him with a little message.  Usually that message was simply, “Hi,” or “Good morning.”  And every day he played along, despite the fact that he was texting his whore and probably jerking off to her messages.  We talked about sex and looking forward to it once I got back home.  LIAR!  He just kept conning me.

He callously allowed me and his therapist to “coach” him through his drive for a supposed business trip.  I say supposed because there is some doubt that he was on this trip by himself.  Regardless, we coached him and stroked his ego and told him how he was a big boy and he could do this!  And he probably walked out of there thinking we were two of the biggest idiots he had ever encountered.  Motherfucker!

He casually mentioned going to his mom’s after the business trip.  You know, because he was so close to her house and he could just never forgive himself if he didn’t make the trip.  In hindsight he wasn’t that much closer to her house when he was on the so called business trip than when he was at our house.  Again with the lies.  Again doing it so casually.  And yes, that pisses me off.  To think that he was filled with such hubris.  That he thought he was so much better and so much smarter than me.  To think about all the ways he was pulling the wool over my eyes and not losing one bit of sleep over it.  Like an idiot I fully supported him, told him I had no problem with that.  He even had the audacity to ask me, “Are you sure you won’t be mad?”  I replied, “Of course not.  She’s your mom!”  Joke’s on me because dear old mom had already encouraged Harley to give her dear son a call, and there was a family reunion that they all attended.  HIS family wasn’t there.  Hell, we weren’t even informed about the event.  But he was there, and Harley was there, and they were hooking up a year to the day that our furniture was delivered to our new house from across the country.  You sonofabitch!  You had better thank your lucky stars that I haven’t had a chance to get down to New Orleans because once I do I’m buying a voodoo doll and I’m cursing your ass!

I get pissed when I think about him telling bald face lies all summer long about how he’s helping his mom out with grocery money and using his niece as a cover story.  “Oh, I’ve got to help them.  She’s my niece.  She’s young and she has a baby and she’s pregnant again.  Mom can’t keep up with feeding her and her boyfriend.  I’ve just gotta help!”  And because I’m a nice person, a kind and loving person, a big-hearted person, I thought nothing of it.  Of course we’ll help.

I think that’s the part that chaps my ass the most.  He used everything that I knew about us as a couple and who we were and used that against me.  We did help out our relatives.  I’m not saying we were dropping hundred dollar bills on them constantly, but it wasn’t out of the ordinary  for us to buy groceries, pay rent, send care packages, offer to pay a dentist bill, pay for airfare…  That’s why it was so easy for him to lie to me and get all of this by me.  You want to buy your mom a phone and pay her bill?  OK, that sounds reasonable.  It’s not like we haven’t paid her rent , bought her groceries, made a car payment for her, or “loaned” her money before.  We’ve got it so why not?  You want to send your mom money for groceries?  OK, that sounds reasonable.  You sent her $500 to repair her car?  Um, ok.  You sent her $500 again?  For what purpose?  And then you turned around and supposedly paid $172 for a single fucking tire at a Walmart in the whore’s town?  This is getting suspicious.

But no!  He didn’t know why that charge came up as Whoreville!  It was supposed to be some other town, much closer to his mom.  And he gave her more money because he just knew they were really hurting and needed it.  His mom didn’t ask for it, of course.  He’s such a good son he simply gave it to her because he could anticipate a need.

Yes, that shit pisses me off.  Again, you entitled jackass!  He LIED right to my face, disrespected me, disrespected our kids, our marriage, our everything.  And he used our past and my good nature to sell that lie.

I get pissed when I think about him refusing to take our daughter to his cousin’s funeral because that was just a front to go fuck his cousin.  I get pissed when I think about how, once again, he told me one bald faced lie after another.  What was supposed to be a quick one day trip turned into a five day adventure.  He was supposed to leave on Thursday, attend the funeral on Friday and return that day.  Instead he left on Thursday, told me on Friday that the funeral had been switched to Saturday (but by golly he swears they told him Friday!), and then plans to come home on Sunday.  When I ask him on Sunday, around 3 if he’s heading back soon he tells me he’s not leaving until 8.  What????  This is a man who had to be coached to drive on his business trip less than a month ago.  This is a man who until recently claimed that just driving to work (a mere 10-15 minutes away) was causing him great distress and anxiety.  Now, not only can the enflamed baboon’s ass drive hours and hours, he can even drive in the dark!  Praise Jesus!  It’s a miracle!  But wait!  It gets better.  I get a text at 11:00 at night letting me know he accidentally left with his mom’s keys in his briefcase.  Oh, how silly you are, Baboon Ass!  What a cute story!  Your mom’s keys are in your briefcase because you drove to the funeral.  On Saturday.  And your mom never needed her keys again between Saturday and Sunday.  Oh, that’s a laugh riot.  Now, he has to turn around and go back to Mommy’s house where he will spend the night.  He will come home the next day.  Yet somehow he doesn’t manage to get his ass home until after 5 in the afternoon.  It’s a 6 hour drive.  It also culminated in him rear ending a truck and him needing his own car repaired.  What’s wrong, Boo?  Were you thinking of sliding between your whore of a cousin’s thighs and forget to stop at the light?  Serves you right.  Too bad you weren’t going 70 mph when you slammed into it.  Hey, I told you I was pissed.

All those lies told to me and not one ounce of regret.  He could lie like a pro and not blink an eye.  That pisses me off.  It infuriates me.  You know why?  Because he’s saying, “You’re so stupid I can tell you anything and you’ll believe it.”   That’s insulting.  No, you flaming turd shot straight from Satan’s ass, I wasn’t DUMB; I was TRUSTING.  I trusted my lying, cheating husband of almost 21 years to be honest and faithful.  I misjudged your character.  I thought you had some and it turns out that much like your hair, you don’t have any.  He used our past and my kindness and understanding against me and then has the balls to believe it’s all because he’s such an impressive person who is so much smarter than the average bear.  Word to the wise, don’t ever mistake my trust and kindness for weakness.

I get pissed when I think about how he would SLEEP with his phone, and then make up lies.  “I don’t want to miss a call from my mom; I was afraid I wouldn’t hear it.”  What are you- six years old and away at sleep away camp for the first time?  Was he afraid I would find it and read their nasty ass texts?  You had a thumb print passcode, you jackass!  That was probably a huge lie, too.  “Oh, the company wants us to have our phones password protected so that if we ever lose them proprietary information is safe.”  Just to up the ante and play on my good nature he offered to add my thumb print as well.  “I trust you.”  Sam, you were an idiot of proportions so huge I can’t even begin to find an appropriate adjective.  You were off the charts stupid!  Yes, that’s me talking to myself.

I get pissed when I think about him boldly texting her AT OUR HOME, IN OUR BEDROOM and then lying to me when I ask him who on earth he’s texting that late at night.  “Oh, I’m not texting.  I’m playing Words With Friends.”  Seriously?  You don’t think I know the difference between a text screen and a game screen?

Then I get pissed at myself because I think to myself, “Why were you such an idiot?”  I don’t know!  Yes, I do.  I didn’t want to believe he could be cheating on me again.  I didn’t want to believe he could blow up our lives like that.  I liked my life.  I wanted to keep it.  So I buried my head in the sand and I believed even when I shouldn’t have.  It reminds me of the time we went to the zoo and watched as this chimp would stick his finger in his ass and pull out a shit-covered finger.  He would look at the finger, cock his head, sniff it, and then EAT the shit off of his finger.  Over and over again.  We stood there transfixed for more than a few minutes before we had to turn away.  He’s my shit eating chimp.  I couldn’t walk away!

I get pissed when I think about him checking me out only days after his return from the funeral and getting a hard on looking at me.  You fucking pig dipped in cow shit covered with flies and maggots!  You’re fucking your white trash cousin!  Don’t be checking me out.  I wouldn’t let you touch me if your dick was encrusted with diamonds!  I wonder though, would it piss you off to know that the reason I was so dressed up that day was because I was going to visit a lawyer to see what my rights were and how much you would end up paying me in child support?  Because I did.  Yes, you see, the very next day after I discovered you were back to fucking around with little Miss Harley I started calling lawyers.  I didn’t fuck around this time.  I started lining up my ducks.

I get pissed when I think about him taking off only a few days later to visit “his best friend.”  I mean, it was only fair since his friend had come to see him last time.  This time it was his turn.  Oh, had he forgotten to tell me that this was the weekend he was going?  He thought I knew.  And, of course, he was planning on telling me goodbye but I had just taken such a long time on my errand that he needed to leave before I could get back.  No, Satan, I think you mean you waited until I left to run an errand so you could get your damn suitcase out to the car without me being any the wiser.  Thankfully, I was already on to him, though so I knew it was all a lie this time.  Nonetheless, it pisses me off every time I think of him asking me why I hadn’t sent him a picture of my boobs.  Um, because, Dickhead, you’re fucking your cousin.  It actually puts me into a white hot rage some days.  The hubris.  A man gets brave when he’s screwing a piece of strange, even when that piece of strange is a white trash, gold digging whore.  Considering I’ve been told he has shown naked pictures of me to the whore I wonder now what his purpose in asking me to send him those pictures was.  Did he want to show her?  Is she eyeing some plastic surgery to be equal to me?  Did he want to show her so they could laugh together about how stupid I was?  Did he just want to test me, to see how far he could push me even when he was being a cheating, lying dick?  I don’t know.  I don’t care.  it just pisses me off.

I get pissed off when I think of how he so blithely spends his work days here at this house and then packs his bags and leaves to spend the weekend with his mistress and her kids.  Seriously, is that some entitled shit or what?  Is he just daring me to say something to him?  She can have you and all of your issues, too.  But it is still some entitled bullshit with a side of “Fuck You” tossed in.

I get pissed off when I think of all the money he has given to her, or spent on her.  That and the fact that he had the audacity to tell our son I “took all his money”.  No, Asshole, I simply made it more difficult for you to continue giving Harley every cent we had.

Similarly, I get pissed off when I think of him telling me, “I’m not going to continue to allow you to steal every dime I make!”  You wouldn’t be making the kind of money you make now if it weren’t for me, you lying, cheating douchebag.  And I didn’t steal YOUR money.  That was OUR money and you were giving it to YOUR WHORE without MY permission.

Simply looking at his pathetic face pisses me off most days.  I suppose it’s a good thing he does slink in and out of the house.

I was pissed off the day he told me, “This can still be civil.”  Fuck that!  I’ve been civil, you pompous, self-righteous incestuous bastard!  Very, very civil.

I get pissed off when I think about him trying to paint himself as the victim to our kids.  How dumb do you think they are?  This isn’t your mommy and your sister.  Those two idiot enablers don’t live with you, but your kids do.  They’ve been here for the last fifteen and thirteen years.  They know exactly what’s gone on in this house and how you’ve acted.  Your daughter called you out on your shit and your son doesn’t believe a word that you say.

I get pissed off when I think of him telling me, “Why don’t you use some of that money you took to pay the bills?” and then smirking, “Someone’s angry,” when I let loose on him.  I understand why the show, “Snapped” exists.

I think sometimes my biggest regret is not raging against him.  I sometimes wish I had Facetimed him when he was “visiting his best friend” and told him I knew, showed him the picture of his car.  Busted!  I wish I had told him not to come home and that I had thrown all of his shit on the front lawn with a big ol’ sign that said:  Cheater lives here! I moved my entire family across the country so I could fuck my cousin!  Along with a lot of smaller signs simply saying:  A cheater lives at xxxx YourStreet!  Enjoy fucking your whore the rest of the weekend, you asshole!

I get pissed off when I think about him giving a performance of a lifetime as Daddy of the Year for her four kids while he neglects his own.  I realize his relationship (or lack of one) with his kids is his own.  He’s going to have to own it and they aren’t cutting him any slack.  But it still pisses me off.  All these fucking years he shut himself away in his bedroom and left me to fend for myself as a single parent.  He fucks a whore and it suddenly jumpstarts his paternal instinct, although honestly, I think he’s just putting on a very good act.  He’ll get tired of it eventually.  And it pisses me off (and makes me a little bit sad for my kids) when I think of how she brags to people about what a wonderful father he is.  Is he?  Because his own kids don’t think he’s doing such a bang up job.  In fact, they’ve said he sucks as a dad.  But it’s so good to hear he’s treating your kids well.  I suppose when you’re fucking their mommy and she’s still married to their daddy you need to be especially nice to them.  What better way than to buy them off?

I get pissed when I think back to asking him for money to buy a Homecoming dress for our daughter and him telling me he didn’t have the money at this time; he’d have to give it to me next paycheck.  Yet somehow he was able to pay over $300 for a dress for a kid that isn’t his.

I get pissed when I think of how he’s ignoring his kid’s text messages, asking if he’s going to give them their allowances, because he’s too much of a chicken shit to actually admit that he’s not.  Now that he actually has to pay support he is apparently going to take the position of:  I pay child support and that should cover everything you need.  Ever.  That, despite the fact that he has NO BILLS outside of his support payment.  He lives here rent free, pays no utilities, pays no share of the marital debt, has no cell phone bill, no car payment, doesn’t even pay his car insurance.  I get a lump sum and I pay for EVERYTHING out of my money.  But he can’t cough up any extra for a yearbook.  Hey, here’s an idea.  Take that $200+ you spend each month on Harley and her daughter’s cell phone bill and use THAT to pay for your kids’ allowances!  Instead of blowing $300 on a damn dress for her daughter maybe use that money to treat your own damn kids!

I get pissed off when I think about how I’ve done all the grunt work over the years to get him to where he is and she’s going to plant her ass in one place, never moving her kids or her own self and he’s going to work around her.  Or at least that’s the plan.  Wonder how well that will work once he begins his new job and realizes he hates that one just as much as he hates this one because once again he has a boss?  That boss might have the balls to tell him no, or to overrule him on something or not let him have his way on everything.  Then he realizes in order to keep his pussy supply going he can’t move very far and now he’s stuck.  Boo hoo.  I feel so bad for you, CF.

I get pissed when I think about how he never arranged his jobs around OUR lives and US.  No, we were always expected to go wherever he took us.  But now, now he’s all about looking close to wherever the pussy is.  And how ridiculous is it that he was looking at a job smack dab in the middle of both of our home towns?  Seriously?  For over twenty years you couldn’t manage to look in that city which would have put us 2 1/2 hours away from your family and 3 hours away from mine?  That was too overwhelming for you but somehow you can now take on a divorce, your kids hating you, trying to sell a house (probably at a loss) with no guaranteed buyout, and a job change?  Once again, alert the fucking press because a miracle has occurred!

I get pissed when I think about the fact that he could have been promoted instead of us making another lateral move, thousands of miles away, destroying our lives.  But no, that all came to a screeching halt the first time he was fucking around with the dumb bitch and they came up with their little plan to move all of us closer (Why all of us?  Couldn’t he have moved and left us behind?).  He started the wheels turning way back then and we all got stuck with it.  So, instead of us remaining where we were, living the lives we loved while he was promoted and traveled, essentially rendering him a weekend husband and father, we’re here in BFE.  She’s the one that gets the weekend partner and father, instead of us.  Come to think of it, one of the reasons he gave for not wanting to travel so much was he didn’t want to miss out on his kids’ lives.  O.M.G.  That is hysterical!  He doesn’t seem to give two shits about his kids and what they want or what they’re doing.  And isn’t he basically doing the exact same thing he said he didn’t want to do?  It’s just that instead of staying at a Hilton or a Marriott, he’s staying in the family home while he’s away at work and then he drives the six hours to spend the weekend with his fake family.

I get pissed when I think of how casually he told me he was “grateful” to me for moving all over the country for him and his job.  Grateful?  How about acknowledging the fact that you’d still be a fucking 2nd shift supervisor if not for me?  Or perhaps a superintendent if you were very lucky.  The fact that I was willing to relocate instead of stomping my feet and insisting that I couldn’t be moved away from my family meant that you got to “self-promote”, as you liked to call it.  But he’s grateful.

Just like he also “respects me as a mother.”  Considering the fact that I’m the one that has done all of the parenting I would sure as hell hope you respect that.  Not to mention the fact that you run off every weekend to go fuck a whore and play family with her kids, leaving your kids with me.  I would hope you respect me as a mother seeing as how you LEFT YOUR FUCKING KIDS WITH ME DURING A STATE OF EMERGENCY DUE TO A HURRICANE!  And then again during a blizzard (also after a state of emergency had been called).

It pisses me off when I think of everything he has put all of us through.  We all gave up so much for HIM, to make HIM happy.  The end result is he didn’t give a shit.  It was never enough.  My daughter could have been a collegiate athlete; he took that away from her.  So HE could be happy.  My son is not happy here; he’s given up all of his friends, the one sport he loved to play, and the cello.  Again, all for his father’s wishes and desires.  My daughter is suffering- frequent migraines, anxiety, possible depression.  She has lost her drive.  My son is miserable here and wants to go back to YYY state.  I left behind friends.  I dropped all my activities.  For HIM.  Because he was unhappy where we were.  So I did what I always did and told him we would all go wherever he wanted to go.  My mother has said more than once that he couldn’t have left us in any worse financial shape.  Seriously- who the fuck puts an expensive inground pool in their backyard and then leaves their family?  A selfish asshole, that’s who!  He moves us here and now he’s planning on leaving?  WTF!  It’s like he dropped a bomb on our lives and once we had partially rebuilt them he tosses in a few hand grenades.  SURPRISE!

It pisses me off when I think of how he thinks he’s just going to walk away from all responsibilities.  He doesn’t worry about who is taking care of the kids.  He doesn’t worry about who will watch the dogs when he goes away.  Doesn’t give a shit who will watch them if we go away.  He isn’t worrying about finding another house in the kids’ school district, or one that will accept pets.  Hell, he’s not even concerned about getting our backyard back into shape in order to sell this damn place, and he sure as shit isn’t planning on doing any of the cleaning or chauffeuring dogs around when it’s time to show the house.  Nope, he’s free and clear.  He’s a bachelor with no kids, no pets, no responsibilities.  He’s planning on ME doing all the heavy lifting, just like I always have.

If I think way back to when I found out about him and Harley the first time it pisses me off to think of how *I* was the one who was expected to change and dance for him.  Oh, baby, tell me what I can do to make this all better?  What do I need to do so you don’t feel the need to seek out other women?  Let me know how I failed you so that I may improve.  You know who should have had a list of things to work on?  You!  You should have been the one dancing like mad, trying to woo me and win me back.  You should have been doing everything you possibly could have to keep me happy and to make me want you because YOU are the one that fucked up.  Not me!  Here’s the kicker, folks- I wouldn’t even want him to feel like he had to constantly prove himself to me.  I never wanted him to dance for me.  But if one of us is going to have a list I think it should be ME presenting a list to HIM.  I didn’t cheat.  I didn’t lie.  Instead he let me know what all *I* could do.  Unfortunately, I was so stupid I went along with it.  I wanted to save my marriage.  I wanted to prevent my kids from growing up with divorced parents.  In hindsight I should have kicked his sorry ass to the curb and got on with my life.  In YYY state, with my daughter still competing in gymnastics, my son still playing hockey, and me still surrounded by great friends and a support network.

In a similar vein it pisses me off when I think of how he would plead for me to “just leave her alone; let her and her husband work things out for themselves while we work on our own stuff.”  Or how he explained the text she sent to him and his wimpy response.  He didn’t want to hurt her anymore; he felt bad because he knew he had already hurt her when he picked me.  Oh, barf!  She was your potential fuck buddy for less than four months.  I’d been your wife for over 18 years at that point.  He is a liar and a coward and a cheat.

It pisses me off whenever I think about the fact that while he was more than willing to stick up for his whore he refused to stick up for me.  I would let him know it bothered me that his family continued to fawn over the dumb whore and his response was always, “I can’t control them,” or “What am I supposed to do?  They’re grown adults.”  He refused to talk to them about their behavior, instead expecting me to just get over it.  And of course, whining about me not wanting to have a relationship with his traitorous family.  Even when I could overhear his mom telling him how she wanted to work on her relationship with me he wouldn’t ‘fess up and tell her straight out:  Stop interacting with Harley!

It pisses me off every time I think about how he would throw me under the bus with his many fucking lies to anyone who would listen.  He was always the victim and he loved to paint me as a heartless, vicious bitch.  He never corrected any of the fallacies.  Oh no, that might jeopardize his victim stance!  He actually had the gall to tell another sister that I filed for divorce and he had no idea why!  Um, that’s a lie, but if we’re going to go down this route then might I suggest you read your damn divorce papers?  I told you exactly why; I even gave her name and listed her address.

Then he turned around and told this same sister I threw out all of his clothes.  Because he never corrects his inaccurate statements I’m sure everyone in his circle still believes to this day that I’ve thrown out all of his clothes despite the fact that they were all nicely hung up in the guest bedroom.  You see, Cousinfucker fully intended to remain in the master bedroom, watching TV on the 42” TV, sipping wine, texting his whore while I slept on the couch or in the guest bedroom.  He, the cheater, would retreat to his spacious suite all during the week and then on the weekends he would leave to fuck his whore, returning back to the master bedroom sometime Sunday evening or Monday morning.  Unfortunately for him he made the mistake of accusing me of stealing “every dime he made”.  Picture me as Julia Roberts in “Pretty Woman”:  Big mistake.  Huge!  I kicked his worthless ass out of the master bedroom; I wheeled his dirty clothes into the guest room and moved all his shit out of the closet that weekend.  I think I should get bonus points for actually hanging them up instead of throwing them out onto the lawn.

It pisses me off when I think about HIS MOTHER encouraging Harley to call him.  What kind of an idiot encourages her son’s whore to give him a call because he’s “so sad”?  Seriously??? Don’t you think maybe that’s something you should be discussing with his WIFE?  Oh no!  Let’s call up the whore and see if she can work her magic.

It especially pisses me off when I think of her sitting in my kitchen asking me why we aren’t Facebook friends and telling me that she wants our relationship to go back to the way it was when we were so close, talking about how CF and I have been together for 20 years and that’s a long time.

It pisses me off that she can then turn around and write on my daughter’s Facebook page that she loves her with all of her heart even with everything that’s going on and then beg her not to shut her out.  YOU CAUSED THIS, YOU DUMB BITCH!  Your granddaughter is going through hell because you chose to enlist the help of her father’s whore instead of talking to his wife, her mother.  You have condoned this.  You’ve welcomed her with open arms.  You’ve basically told both of your grandchildren, “Deal with it!”

It pisses me off when I think of *everyone* who has been working behind the scenes to help destroy our marriage.  There was his “best friend” who so helpfully told him about my other page.  Did he really think that was going to help CF?  I mean, I realize I’m just the woman who has lived with him for over 20 years (incidentally, that is longer than anyone else in his life) so as his college roommate he undoubtedly knew CF way better than I did.  Let’s fast forward and get to the conclusion:  No, it didn’t help.  In fact, it put him into a suicidal state.  Was the best buddy around for that?  No.  He had his own life to live.  Just let the cold hearted bitch take care of him.  He actually had the gall to hug me the last time he saw me, all the while undoubtedly encouraging my husband to trade me in for a newer model.

There was his sister who begged him to leave me, who told him he deserved so much better than me.  Where was she when he was in the hospital?  Oh, that’s right!  She left him with that horrible wife and never bothered to come visit him.  At least now she’s not the only one who has cheated and left her spouse for another.  Welcome to the club, baby brother!

Going back even further it pisses me off when I think about how he wanted me dependent upon him and how nonchalantly he went about achieving that goal.  And it really pisses me off when I think of him wasting 20 plus years of my life, making me dependent upon him, and then discarding me like yesterday’s trash once he has decided he’d rather build a life with his cousin.

If I’m honest with myself this whole situation pisses me off.  Being moved 2000 miles across the country, our lives systematically dismantled for his amusement (and happiness, of course; can’t forget his happiness), money poured into a new house, new car, new furniture, new pool, all the things we promised our kids, the lies he told them about this brand new life out here, and then BOOM!  Lies, lies, lies.  As he blows up our lives completely.

THIS is precisely why I try so hard to take the high road and stuff all of this down.  No, not so much stuff it down.  I try to let it roll off my back, like water on a duck’s back.  This is somewhat ironic because I remember standing in the hair salon with my maid of honor and future sister-in-law, aka Jezebel, the morning of my wedding.  We were wearing button down shirts so as to not mess up our hair once it was done.  Our hair was brushed but that was all, and no makeup was worn.  I let my soon to be sister-in-law go first so my best friend and I were standing around talking.  To keep my emotions from welling up and to prevent the tears from falling I kept saying, “I’m a duck.  I’m a duck.  It’s all like water off a duck’s back.”  Who knew that I’d be saying that again at the end of our marriage?  Such irony.  Can we call that the circle of life?  I digress.

I let it all roll off of me, keeping only enough to power me through to do what needs to get done, because if I didn’t I would be consumed by the rage of everything he has done.  Voodoo dolls would be the least of his concerns.  Another Jedi would fall to the Dark Side.  I’ve got kids to raise; I don’t have time for that shit!  So… I let it roll off my back and only every now and then do I allow myself to take a moment to dwell on the Dark Side.