Always Something There To Remind Me, Part 1

Jennifer Ball hit it out of the park last month with her blog post, Haunted (by) Houses. If you haven’t read her blog you should.

The inspiration for this post? Her desire to buy a home of her own and the realization that she probably never would be able to because of what her ex did to her when he left.

You think CF is bad? I think her ex has him beat. He left her with four kids and “a mountain of debt” for his secretary. They are now married with two children of their own. While he does on occasion see his children it’s at their discretion and as Jenny has noted, “They don’t have much time for someone who doesn’t have much time for them.”

Like CF, her ex had some difficulties with paying support. Apparently it’s hard deciding which Audi to buy, getting your pool fixed, AND paying support. Something had to go! Not only did he somehow manage to get out of paying child and spousal support for quite some time, when she finally got awarded child support again that motherfucker somehow managed to make it tax exempt for him which meant she had to pay taxes on it.

Like me she lost her home to foreclosure. Unlike me she did not have a mother to turn to. She’s worked three and four jobs at a time, shopped at the food bank, declared bankruptcy, and has lived in poverty, or pretty close to it, since her divorce. As she puts it:

Every time I get a little bit tucked away into savings there is something that needs to be taken care of: one of our ancient cars breaks down, a tooth cracks, someone’s tuition is due, we need heat in the winter, etc.

Her ex? He and the OW turned new wife bought or built a million dollar home shortly before his youngest child with Jenny turned 18 and aged out of child support. Some guy, huh? If it’s possible I think I hate him more than I hate CF.

She writes:

This is what I want to tell people who insist that I’m bitter. Who tell me to get over it, who shake their heads and say, “I can’t believe you still think about this.” Who look at my ex, in his million dollar house, livin’ the dream and then at me, livin’ the nightmare of financial insecurity and terror over things like, “where will I live when our sweet landlord gets smart and decides to sell?” and see nothing unfair or unjust.

“Jenny, he’s moved on. Why can’t you?”

Because every.single.day there is a reminder. Some days I’m SO GOOD at ignoring them. I line up my blessings and kiss them on the forehead as I count them. I laugh and curl up with the good fortune I do have and the reminders slink away.

But the houses. Shit. The houses, they won’t be ignored (I wonder if they sound like Glenn Close). They are structures built of possibilities and dreams. They are carnies calling out to me as I try my hardest to just keep walking, eyes focused on the sidewalk, the sky, anything but these homes. “Step right up! Feast your eyes on this little beaut! Too bad you can’t qualify for a gd thing, Jenny! This coulda been yours if only you’d made some better life choices! If only you’d ignored that tall asshole singing along to REM at the bar that night!” (it was The End of the World As We Know It, hahaha) (cry)

I lost the home my dad bought and remodeled with his own two hands thanks to my ex husband’s fuckery. A home that welcomed our new babies, that was framed with plants and trees we put into the ground with love, that kept us safe and warm through seasons of cold and rain. A home I had planned on living in for the rest of my life. Gone, because some dude couldn’t keep his dick in his pants.

God, I get it, Jenny. I really do.

“He’s moved on and you should too,”? Really? These helpful “friends” don’t seem to grasp that subtle difference where our exes had their new lives all planned out before we ever got wind that anything was wrong with the old life.

Jenny and I were both stay at home moms. Our husbands both made decent money. So when they decided to “move on” it was quite easy for them. They weren’t suddenly going to wonder where the hell they were going to live. With the whore, of course! They didn’t have to worry about those pesky kids. They were our responsibility. We’d figure something out. Two, three, four jobs- whatever it takes.

Neither of our exes have dealt with the utter destruction we’ve been forced to face. They had jobs, new partners, new kids, new homes. Everything nice and new and shiny.

Their lives have gone on with very few missteps and when one occurred they’ve both managed to quickly turn it around for themselves.

It’s not so easy when you’re the dumped spouse, forced into an unforgiving workforce after many years of raising your kids.

CF had a twenty year head start on me when it came to being financially independent. I spent those twenty years following him around the country and raising his children. If someone offered me a job paying $100,000 like he was offered I would take it in a heartbeat (the usual disclaimers of no illegal activity and no killing or torturing animals apply). The reality is I’m a middle aged woman with very little recent job history and a useless, outdated degree. I can give myself pep talks about increasing my pay almost $3 more per hour in the two years that I’ve been with the bank, but $11/hour wasn’t enough to live on, much less support two kids, and $13.77/hour isn’t much better.

Move on? Oh, I think I have. But “stop thinking about all of that,”? Yeah, no. I’m not sure that will ever happen. I think it’s very easy for the person who was cheating to not look back. But in my case, and in Jenny’s case, our lives as we knew them were destroyed.

I lost my home. I had to go back to work. My household income plummeted. I farm out childcare duties because I can’t do them.

I don’t see myself ever being able to afford a home of my own. I will probably work until the day that I die, and I don’t see my household income increasing much from what it is now. I guess the good news is if I work until I’m 75 and get those huge 50 cent a year raises by the time I retire I’ll be making over $50,000. Of course, by then $50,000 will be equivalent to $35,000 today.

One day I was buying all new furniture for my new house and putting a $57,000 pool in my backyard. The next day I’m living off of savings and the day after that I’m forced out of my home, out of the state, and working two jobs.

CF’s new life? As my lawyer put it so brilliantly in court: You used to live in a nice big 4 bedroom, 2 bathroom home. You still live in a 4 bedroom, 2 bathroom home. You had a wife that cooked your meals and did your laundry. Now you’ve got someone else to cook your meals and do your laundry. You had 2 kids. You still have 2 kids. Not your two kids, but two kids nonetheless.

Nothing’s changed for him. What does he need to get over? What does Jenny’s ex husband need to get over? The fact they both cheated on their loyal wives or that they discarded their own flesh and blood? I don’t think it bothers them. They are far too entitled to ever feel guilt.

Both of them stepped right into ready made lives that were no different (although they might argue they’re so much better now) than the ones they had before. They just switched out their wife appliance.

I’m as over that piece of shit I married as a person can be. The thought of him touching me makes me physically ill. I realize he was a total mental drain. Hell, I was recording suicide messages for my loved ones after they found my body only four months before finding out about Harley the Whore. I’m completely over him. Don’t want him back. Not a bit jealous that she’s got him and I don’t.

She didn’t just take my husband, though. She took my life. She took my security and that of my children. She took our home from us and then took their mother away from them. I used to do everything for them. I used to be there for them. Anything that needed to be done, I did. Now that’s no longer true. I just can’t do it anymore. I don’t have the time or the money.

The two of them took everything that used to mean something to me and destroyed it. I enjoyed my life in Utah, and I was beginning to enjoy my life in Virginia, but those motherfuckers took that from me.

They took my identity, that of a mom, and crushed it, while they retained their own identities (those cousinfucking baboons). My life has completely changed and it’s a change that was forced upon me. It was not something I sought out.

The two of them irreparably damaged me. Maybe if I had been younger. Maybe if we had had more assets. Maybe if I had always worked and had an excellent career myself. Maybe then the damage wouldn’t have been so great.

I will adjust. I will acclimate. I will lower my expectations. I will endure. But it will never be okay and I will NEVER get over what those two assholes did to me or how much they took from me.

That sounds dark and angry, doesn’t it? I don’t mean to imply that there are no charms to this new life I’m leading. If not for him firebombing my life I would have never met the mobster. He is a gem; I have a much better relationship now. It has definitely shown me what was missing in my marriage and how dysfunctional both CF and the relationship were. I cannot stress how thankful I am that the mobster is in my life.

My kids both seem to be doing well despite my greater absence. Sometimes I forget to pat myself on the back for the things I do manage to accomplish in spite of no longer being a stay at home mom. I pick Picasso up from after school activities 2-3 days a week, and once a week I get him to cello lessons. I still attend his concerts. I’ve been at the family events that Rock Star has invited me to down at college. I’m told I’m an honorary member of her sorority because so many of the girls think I’m awesome. Plus, the entire four months my mom was gone I managed to do laundry, go grocery shopping, and cook meals for my son.

I have the opportunity to live close to my family again. While CF could manage to make his way back to his home state I don’t think he would have ever been inclined to make it back to mine. Or even close to it for my sake.

None of the above makes what CF did to me okay. He and his choices altered the course of my life. If you’re going to tell me I need to “get over it” then I think it’s only fair that you understand that.

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The Doubts

Welcome to Part 3 on my series of the folly of pain shopping. You can read Part 1 and/or part 2 if you are so inclined.

I do not want him back. He is a pox upon humanity. I am madly in love with the mobster and I am happier than I have ever been. Still…. I look at that shit on her Facebook and I wonder…

Was he right and we just weren’t good together? Is Harley better suited for him because she doesn’t mind sitting at home all day long? Will their love of Kentucky basketball see them through every hardship? Is she just better than me in his eyes, because he certainly didn’t want any part of the family life with me and our kids? I couldn’t get him out of his damn bed. I couldn’t pry him away from the TV. We didn’t take trips together. He didn’t feel the need to be a supportive dad to his own kids. He never complimented me where everyone in the world could see it.

Was he right and I was a terrible wife? I never put photo frames around his picture and declared I loved my veteran. I thanked him every year but I didn’t post pictures and photo frames and declarations of love. Maybe she is just all around better than me. I envision her working her 40+ hours a week, bringing home a substantial paycheck and still having plenty of time to cook dinner, clean house and do laundry all while being supermom to her kids. At least three of them.

I work 40+ works hours a week and bring home less now than I did when I first started, thanks to taxes, a 401k, and crappy medical insurance for me and my two kids. My mom cooks and does laundry. I rarely see my kids- Rock Star is gone a huge chunk of the time and Picasso is off doing his own thing in his room. I did begin and end this divorce with two kids so I’ve got that going for me. I’ll put that one in the win column for me.

I see pictures of them with all their pets so I know I didn’t turn him off because I loved animals and had a house full.

I sometimes even see witty memes and I think to myself, “That’s pretty funny; too bad you’re a whore.”

Was he right and I just wasn’t “the one”? I wasn’t a good fit and she is. Is it that simple? Maybe they really are deliriously happy together. Maybe it’s the love affair of the century, Kentucky style.

Maybe I just wasn’t the right wife for him and she is. Did I fail him? Did he at one point think I had all the necessary traits he wanted/needed in a wife, but over the years he came to realize I did not?

That is the fear, isn’t it? It’s not that the two people who did this to you are evil, horrible, rotten people who should be strung up and shot; it’s that those two people who did this to you are so much better suited to one another. They compliment each other. They fit together. They make a better couple. They realized it and weren’t afraid to plunge ahead while you clung to the past with everything you had. It’s about being bested by a whore with no morals who may actually be the better partner because God knows he does things for her and her kids that he never bothered to do for me and mine.

Was I the starter wife? Did he learn from his mistakes with me? Did he finally realize that barricading himself in the bedroom and submerging himself in the television all by himself was not the path to a happy marriage so now he’ll do better? Is that why he’s willing to do all the things that I would have loved for him to do with all of us?

Did I somehow prevent him from living up to his potential? Was I too overbearing when it came to the kids? Is that why he was reluctant to come with us but is always ready and willing to help out with her kids and to act like one big happy family with them?

Would insisting on family dinners around the table have helped? What if I was a better housekeeper? Maybe he wouldn’t have minded being in the living room instead of shutting himself off in the bedroom. Maybe it really was me! If I had kept the house cleaner and cooked more he never would strayed. Okay, that’s a little over the top. But maybe if I had kept the house cleaner he wouldn’t have chosen to stay in his bedroom so much, or chosen to remain downstairs in the basement watching television while the kids and I stayed upstairs. I’ve said before I think that was when the breakdown began and we began living separate lives, so if I had been better at that one thing then I could have saved this and my kids would never know a life of poverty. Her little snapshots of life are all about family life and being together and doing things together. I keep coming back to: If I had been a better housekeeper maybe he wouldn’t have retreated, and all those pictures of cozy Sundays in front of a fire, or outings with children could be us.

He kept telling me I could watch whatever I wanted on TV. He didn’t need to have it on ESPN or History Channel. I never believed him though, and truthfully, didn’t want to spend hours upon hours holed up in the bedroom. It seems like she doesn’t mind and maybe if I had forced myself to do that then I would still be married.

Was I too easy going? Did that disappoint him? Did he want someone to push back? Did he want more fire? Did I make things too easy for him? Perhaps I should have taken a stand and demanded more from him. Maybe when I sighed and took on more and more of the tasks he saw it as a sign I didn’t see him worth fighting for.

Did I just flat-out disappoint him when it came to being his wife? Were there tons of things I didn’t do that a good wife should do and that Harley the whore obviously does? I didn’t fawn over him. I didn’t call him out on Facebook all the time. I didn’t marvel over him. I didn’t bring him a cool drink while he mowed the yard. I didn’t want to snuggle in bed all day with him. I didn’t want to watch Mountain Men with him. I fell asleep on the couch even once he “allowed” me to come back and sleep in the bed. Maybe I really didn’t love him the way you should love your husband. Maybe he is now getting the love he deserves and he feels complete and happy. We all know I couldn’t make him happy, no matter how hard I tried. She appears to make him happy all the time. If you don’t believe me take a gander at her Facebook page. Everyone there will tell you how happy they both look!

Why? That is the overwhelming question that rushes through my brain as I looked at all that crap. Why was he willing to do all of this with her and her kids? He could celebrate birthdays with them, go to the zoo, take “family” vacations, go to cheer competitions, go to the hospital with her kid and fetch candy. Why can he be Dad of the Year to her kids when all he could do with ours was sit in the bedroom and watch TV? Why did we have to practically beg him to go anywhere with us? How is it that now he’s able to go away on couple’s vacations and spend time together outside of the safety of his bedroom in the evening? Why is he getting his teeth fixed? Why is he suddenly getting involved in veteran’s groups? Why is he wearing sandals with jeans? Was it something about me? Did I lack something that would have motivated him to do those things? Is she just better at getting him out of his shell? Did he give up because he thought I didn’t care?

The mobster thought this had really gotten into my head. Maybe it has but I think it’s natural to see things like that and wonder, “Why the hell couldn’t he (or she) have done all of that while we were married? Why did it take blowing up the original family for the ex to finally act the way I wish he (or she) had acted when he was with me?

I can tell you this: I will no longer be looking at her Facebook page. I do know they are masters at image management. I know that if her head was on fire she would not acknowledge it. She’d be saying, “I’m a little chilly; anyone got a sweater?” I know that ultimately it doesn’t matter what kind of a cook she is, or how promptly she does laundry, or if she keeps a cleaner house than I did because she is a woman who has no qualms about sleeping with another woman’s husband. She’s a woman who is willing to cheat on her husband. No matter what good things she may do to cover up the evil that lies within, she is an awful person with crappy character and no moral compass.

I know I don’t want him back and that life is so much nicer without him in it. It doesn’t matter if he goes out to dinner with her daughter or shows up to support her at cheer competitions. It doesn’t matter if he goes to Show and Tell with her son, or is there to hold his hand when he hurts himself. No matter what good deeds he may perform for her children he will always be an ass who abandoned his own kids, who refused to pay child support for them while he drained a 401k of $10,000, and who tried to get out of paying sufficient support for them during his court trial. He played games with child support once he got a job and calculated child support for his “beloved” daughter down to the last half hour for crying out loud. He’s also a man who has no qualms about sleeping with another man’s wife and is willing and able to cheat on his wife. Not only was he willing to cheat on me, but he was willing to lie to me, make a fool out of me, take money away from his kids and give to her and her kids, and then financially rape me. He has crappy character and no moral compass. I guess they really are ideally suited for one another. Thank God no more nice people will be subjected to their lying, cheating ways. They can both wonder what the other one is up to. I think they are probably both too pleased with themselves to ever even consider the idea that the same could be done to them.

Stay away, everyone! Nothing good comes from pain shopping. Nothing! They make you doubt yourself when you know you’re sane. They make you question yourself and your actions even when you know you did nothing wrong. They can convince you that they are living a life of carefree joy and that all of that could have been yours if you had simply danced prettier. They’ll make you wonder what you did wrong and you’ll find yourself comparing yourself to someone who is so far below you there can never be a comparison. Even when you are happy in your new life one look at the cheaters and their life on social media is enough to make you stumble off of that path of newfound happiness and bliss; they’ll take you down a twisted road of doubt and anger and jealousy.  They are master manipulators and you will never be able to compete with their highlight reel. So don’t do it! Stay far, far away!

 

The Highlight Reel

This is the second part in my five part series on the stupidity of pain shopping. You can read the first part here. Let me serve as a lesson to you! Don’t do it!

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I embarked on some “research”. First up was a new picture of her kids on vacation. It might have been Tennessee but it could have easily been somewhere else as well.

They looked like they were having fun. I don’t know if CF came along or if good ol’ Harley is finally learning the joys of life with him. In my mind he came along, because this is Life 2.0. He’s new and improved. He’s the doting husband and the beloved daddy, always ready for adventures with this new version of his family. Naturally, in my narrative he’s telling Harley how much he loves going on vacation and how I would never let him accompany us, how he missed out on so many of these adventures with his own children because of me.

Of course, I also notice the missing fourth child. I guess he wouldn’t play happy family or accept CF as his brand new daddy so he needed to be eradicated. Not even a mention of missing him.

I go back and forth between hoping he has a damn anxiety attack on the way back (or while there) that she needs to deal with and wondering if there was some magic formula I didn’t know existed that would have made him enjoy vacationing with his kids and me. Why does he do this with her and her kids when he would never do it with his own kids?

I see the pictures once again of the happy couple on their wedding day and honeymoon, I suppose. Everyone congratulating them and telling them how happy they are for them. I roll my eyes at the stupidity. It’s laughable. Two cheaters promising to love, honor and forsake all others. Yes, they’ve both got a real good grasp on how marriage is supposed to work.

I so badly want to comment and ask those people if they’re aware of the price her husband, her one son, my kids, and I all had to pay for their happiness. Do you think she’s entitled to happiness at my expense? At my kids’ expense?

I sleep on a couch. My daughter has spent two years basically with her head down just doing her damnedest to graduate and get the hell out of here, to start all over in college. My son, instead of hanging out with friends, stays locked in his room playing video games. We live on a busy street, not a neighborhood. There are no kids around he could hang out with.

But they’re happy and they deserve it because apparently I was a horrible, evil, mean person who tried to shit all over their happiness. No one cares what their happiness did to anybody else’s life.

She wants everyone to know that lazy days spent on the couch in front of the fire with her beloved are her favorite kind of Sunday. He’s got the remote in his hand so he hasn’t changed that much.

I see her incessantly calling him out, mentioning him, tagging him. “I love my veteran!”, “Waiting to watch the fight!” (from their home, on the couch, with him), and letting everyone know how they’re “getting their Halloween on”. Wow- you managed to get him to watch something other than Ice Road Truckers or Mountain Men? Congratulations! You didn’t get him out from under the television altogether but at least you’re watching together.

Again I wonder: Why not with me? Why can he suddenly do all these family and couple oriented things with her that he never could with me? Their life seems to be like a cozy, warm sweater. They carve pumpkins, sip hot apple cider, and watch Halloween movies together. I’m sure Christmas is now magical as well for him.

I see all their happy couple pictures and people cooing all over them. “Beautiful!” “Such a happy couple!” “So nice to finally see you happy!” My former in-laws are the worst offenders. And so incredibly stupid.

My late former mother-in-law shouts out to all on Facebook that, “That’s my baby boy and he’s going to make them my family, too!” Really? Aren’t they already your family? I could have sworn you told me that day you sat in my kitchen that you couldn’t cut her off because she was family. She might be a whore, but gosh darn it, Sam, she’s family, too! I see my evil ex sister-in-law gush that she loves them.

Funny side note: Maybe it’s a woman thing but I definitely noticed how Harley was always commenting on their pages once CF broke things off with her. She didn’t comment much at all before her affair with him but she was all over it once she got dumped. Imagine my surprise when I saw that she’s not falling all over herself to comment on every insipid post and each picture. Curious.

Always there are the obligatory compliments: You are so beautiful. Pretty. Great picture of you, whore.

I freely admit it has always been a sore spot that my former in-laws never missed a chance to tell her how wonderful she looked, while ignoring me.

I posted a new profile picture (obviously this was back when we were still married). Keep in mind I am not the type of person who changes profile pictures every week. That would be Harley. I think this was the first change in two years. Two years! On top of that I had just got my hair cut. I had kept my hair styled basically the same way for years! This was a major change and the most I got from any of them was, “That hairstyle looks nice on you.”

Maybe the former in-laws always thought I was very ugly and wondered what on earth their beloved prince was doing with such an unsuitable specimen. Maybe they like the Hillbilly Whore look. Who knows?

I do my best to shake my head and continue on.

I see all of the pictures of her adorable animals. Most of them purchased by my then-husband. Couldn’t give me money for a homecoming dress for his daughter but he could buy them new animals.

To inject just a brief moment of sanity in this I will note that I don’t see the pets she used to pose with. I wonder if she discarded them like she discarded her son and husband. Much like her new husband discarded his family and pets. Oh well, everything is replaceable, right?

I see her update on moving into their new home. That’s nice, bitch. I live with my mom. My kids don’t have a home of their own. It’s nice that thanks to my husband’s money (and he was my husband at this point in time) your kids are able to move into the nicest home they’ve ever lived in. It’s fantastic that things are going so swell for your kids. Well, except the one you abandoned.

Guess what? She later reveals she loves their new home. There’s so much for her kids to do! I’m so happy for them.

There’s the post about her youngest banging his head in the pool and needing stitches. Don’t worry, though, because New Daddy was on the job keeping him calm, happy, and stuffed with candy!

Awww… that’s so sweet. I’m glad he can act like a father for your kids. Too bad he’s done nothing for his own. To be fair he did manage to make a few ER trips with us (hey- my kid was a gymnast; she got hurt a lot!) but that pales in comparison to what he’s done to them the last 2 years. Maybe we should start calling her youngest, “Mulligan” since he seems to be CF’s do-over.

There were the pictures of the family outing to the zoo- two whole hours away to boot! I guess that PTSD must be in remission, huh? I suppose since he’s no longer trying to con me out of sufficient child and spousal support he can fully enjoy life as the asshole he is.

Oh, there it is! Yet another new profile picture of the whore so that everyone can compliment her and tell her how pretty she is. There’s CF chiming in, “Gorgeous!”  Really? I was married to that sonofabitch for twenty fucking years. Granted, he was not on Facebook long while we were married and most of the time I imagine he spent trying to fuck other women, but not once did he bother to compliment me.

It bothered me when I was married to him. It bothered me when we were wreck-onciling. He knew it bothered me. I told him it bothered me. His excuse? “I see you everyday! Why would I bother to comment on Facebook when I can tell you in person?”

That’s a good question. Why is he bothering to comment on Facebook when he could just go home and tell her?  Better question: If he really wants to let everyone know how special she is why doesn’t he tell her that she’s worth the thousands of dollars he has to pay out every month? I would think that would be a huge compliment! “Your pussy is so fantastic I don’t mind paying out thousands of dollars a month for it!” or maybe, “You were worth abandoning my children!” Hmmm… perhaps that does not convey the message they want to convey…

I see more pictures of the happy couple posing in front of scenery that does not resemble Kentucky. Maybe they travel a lot now. How convenient. It’s nice to know he spent twenty years wasting my life and making me do everything solo because he got such anxiety anytime he ventured outside of his house. I think the mobster is right and Harley very much is his seeing eye dog. With her by his side as his faithful companion he can go places he once only dreamed of.

One last new snapshot- one of her daughter and her two smiling sons. They’re all going out to celebrate her birthday. I think it’s wonderful that he can finally go out for birthday dinners once again. The last year he lived in the house, the last birthday each of my kids had before finding out that their family was going to be shattered and their lives torn apart, he was simply too upset and anxious to go out and celebrate. He stayed behind, probably texting the whore, while I took the two of them out. Who cares if he fucked over his own kids, right? The important part is that he’s doing right by her kids.

Once again I see the picture of CF with Mulligan at Show and Tell. It was Veteran’s Day. This year she improved upon the picture with a cutesy frame that told everyone who cared to listen that she loved her veteran. The year before though it was simply about how pleased Mulligan was that New Daddy/Cousin Daddy (Caddy?) could be there.

You know what I thought about? I thought about the time he snapped at Picasso because he wanted his dad to drop him off at school. Good ol’ Daddy was anxious and didn’t know how to navigate the carpool lane. The man can fight a fucking war and blow shit up, but a line of cars whipping through the horseshoe drive in front of the school just wipes him out.

I thought about the time he got pissy with me because I needed him to run to Target and grab a gift out of the dollar bin and bring it back up to the school for Rock Star so she could participate in her classroom Christmas party. As always, shooting people and blowing shit up is easy; a quick trip to Target is life threatening. He will probably need psychological counseling for the rest of his life because of it.

Once again I see them posing the day of her daughter’s cheerleading competition- him posing in a t-shirt with her high school name and mascot on it. Both of them gushing about how important it was to be there for her. “He must love her so much to wear that t-shirt!” “Oh, it was painful to put that Cardinals t-shirt on but I wanted to support her.”

He never saw his daughter cheer or compete as a cheerleader one single time. He never went to a single high school gymnastics meet. At the time he was saying this he had moved out of the state without saying a word to either of his kids and he hadn’t seen them in over eighteen months. Yes, it was so important that he support the daughter of the whore he’s fucking.

And always there are the comments. Comments from people I used to call family. Comments from people who still try to act like they care about me and my kids while they support that fucking whore and her kids. Comments from people who used to be family shouting out how happy they are with the jolly new couple, how much they love them, how much they love Everything. About. Them. They are so proud and this is their family. Tammy Faye cooing over the newest grandchildren. She loves them so much! Doesn’t seem to give a shit about her actual grandchildren but the whore’s kids? She was on that shit quick!

As tempting as it may be, don’t do it! Don’t pain shop. Maintain no contact (and that includes social media). You may think you can handle it, that it will be no big deal, but feelings will come. I promise you this. Even if the majority of those feelings are rage and anger it is still a lot to deal with. It can still mess with your head. Even knowing they are masters at image management, even knowing that truly happy people don’t have to make a huge show of their relationship every day and every hour on social media, even knowing he is the problem and she is a whore, it can still make you doubt yourself.

It’s For the Best

There are few phrases coming out of cheater’s and their enabler’s mouths that I hate more than that one. It’s for the best. It all worked out. They’re both much happier now. They have more compatible partners. It was a blessing in disguise.

Fuck that! You know what? I am happier. The mobster is a much better match for me. He makes me happier than CF ever did. I am ecstatic that I no longer have to deal with his never ending list of issues or his constant unhappiness that can never be satisfied. I am glad I’m closer to family. I have realized how incredibly strong I am. My kids are thriving.

Those are all things that happened in spite of what he did to us!

He didn’t have an affair to make me happy. He didn’t have an affair so that I could see how strong I was. He didn’t have an affair so that his kids could be resilient. He didn’t have an affair to “free me from my burden of being his wife” or so that I could meet the love of my life. He didn’t have an affair so that I could move closer to family and the kids could be around their cousins. No, he had an affair because he wanted to. Because Harley the Whore was available and eager to spend our marital assets in exchange for her services. The only person he was thinking of was himself. He didn’t give a shit about our happiness. It was all about his happiness.

He never once considered us or what his selfish choices would do to our lives. So no, he doesn’t get to say it all turned out for the best. None of his sniveling enablers get to say it either. My kids and I, we found happiness and we thrived despite what CF and Harley did to us. I can assure everyone reading this that we were not even a blip on his radar when he made the decision to resume his affair with Harley.

That’s the sad reality with cheaters and their enablers. If they can point to the end result and proclaim everyone “so much better off” then they don’t have to consider all the horrible things that were done. They can ignore all of that.

“Oh, you were forced to move out of your home, forced to move out of the state, and had to tear your lives apart once again? La la la la la la la… I can’t hear you! All I see is happy kids and a happy ex-wife. (Of course, the most important factor is that CF and Harley are happy.) Nothing to see here, folks. Just rainbows and unicorns. All is well.”

Yes, I’m sure John Walsh is thanking his lucky stars that his precious sweet Adam was kidnapped and murdered. After all, it led to such a lucrative television career. When a child is missing in a store and they lock it down it’s now referred to as a Code Adam. How great is that? An ode to his child that never would have happened had a child predator kept his disgusting hands off that innocent six year old child. It all worked out in the end, right?

Bullshit!

I’ll go one step further. None of them- CF, Harley, Jezebel, Tammy Faye, Pastor Fake- care whether or not we’re happy. The only ones who matter are CF and Harley. I would venture to guess that they would actually prefer I be miserable, seeing as how I made poor pitiful CF so unhappy. I was such a horrible wife and person I deserve to live steeped in unending misery. The fact that any of us are happy only serves to assuage whatever tiny sliver of shame they may feel. Hell, probably not even that because I don’t think those people have a conscience. No conscience= no guilt, no shame.

So yeah, I’m finally happy. I’m not where I want to be yet but I’m on a path. I crawled through the bowels of Hell to get to this point. Almost two freaking years after finding out my husband is a lying, cheating, backstabbing, disrespecting piece of crap who uprooted me and my kids for a piece of gold digging, jailbird ass. I cried more tears in these last two years than I’ve cried in the rest of my entire life. I was completely broken. I lost almost everything. So many times I wanted to lay down and die. I kept going for my kids. That was the only reason because I sure as hell didn’t see a future for me. I dug myself out of this living grave, bit by bit. So when he or one of his cheater apologists want to tell everyone it truly was for the best and we’re both so much happier with our new partners (see Sam, he did you a favor!) I want to take a sledge hammer and smash their faces.

We’re all happy despite your cheating son/brother. My daughter was miserable for months. I went to Hell and back. We emerged from our misery; we fought back and we prevailed. Cheater Boy never had one moment of discomfort. He never had to comfort crying or disappointed kids. He never had to look them in the eye and answer their questions. He never had to watch as their lives as they knew them completely disappeared. He wasn’t around for the goodbyes. He wasn’t around for any of it. He chose a whore and her kids over his family. He was busy playing family with them so he didn’t have to deal with any of the fallout of his cheating. He went from the comfort of his former home, his wife, and his kids directly into a new home that he shared with Harley and her kids. When he left our home he chose to go; he wasn’t forced out, unlike us. He shed his old life like a snake sheds its skin. Out with the old; in with the new. There was no loneliness. He wasn’t discarded. He didn’t have to wonder if he was so hideous and unlovable that he would be alone forever. He didn’t have to wonder what would happen to him or his kids. He didn’t wonder what some other man had that he didn’t, didn’t have to wonder what made me turn to someone else. He never had to doubt his worth. He never had to wonder how he was going to support himself after fifteen plus years out of the workforce.

No! He cut me off financially, threw over $30,000 Harley’s way (while she cheated on him!), lived like a child free bachelor, used our home as an extended stay hotel, let me pay all the household expenses while he used the remaining money to play Sugar Daddy to the whore and her hooligans, sauntered off every weekend to fuck his whore, and created a brand new life that didn’t include his wife of 20 years or his teenage children.

To this day he refuses to do the right thing. He only paid his back support under court order and the threat of having to pay me an extra $10,000. He made one additional full support payment back in April. Since then he’s done nothing but play games. He hasn’t paid the equivalent of even one month of support.

I can assure you that any positives that have occurred since the napalming of our lives has been an oversight by CF. I’m fairly certain he wanted to destroy me. I sure as hell know he didn’t give one flying fuck about my happiness or his kids’ happiness.

Happiness was achieved in spite of him and Harley, not because their affair was some divining rod that brought bountiful blessings. So neither he nor anyone in his fucked up family get to say it was all for the best, or that it all worked out. I can say it. My kids can say it. He never gets to say it. He didn’t do what he did to make us happy. He only cared about himself and the whore.

CF, you and your entire family and fucked up friends can all take your chipper, “It’s for the best!” and shove it up your ass.

Choosing To Drink It All In

When you left us, I was so sad.  And after I was done being sad I got mad.  And when the anger left me, I decided to drink in everything you walked away from.  Everything you decided wasn’t worth hanging around for, I embraced it, loved it… I hung around for it.

I was looking through the archives over on Chump Lady, trying to find her scathing post on remarriage between affair partners when I came across this: This is What You Missed, You Idiot. If you really want to cry some tears head on over to HuffPo and read the actual article by the terrific Jennifer Ball who writes the fabulous blog, Happy Hausfrau.

I have a friend who is in much the same boat as I. We moved across the country at roughly the same time. She announced she and her husband were divorcing in June and two months later I discovered my husband was once again lying and cheating.

She has family in Utah so she ended up moving back with her four kids. The husband stayed behind with his mistress and her kids. In my case I moved back in with my mom after the husband moved to another state to work with his best friend and be closer to the mistress and her kids.

Folks, this woman is incredible. She’s raising four kids essentially on her own. Their father is over 2000 miles away, living a brand new life which doesn’t include his own children. She hired a nanny, she found kickass employment (she’s a programmer), she participates in community theater, she takes her kids to Disneyland, and she goes to Vegas on fun vacations. She’s doing it ALL and she does it alone.

She’s there for every tear and every laugh. She’s there for parent-teacher conferences and performances. She’s there for game night and ice cream and when everybody is melting down. She’s there to help her oldest daughter navigate this incredibly hard journey of discovering she’s been abandoned by her adored father. She is drinking it all in and doing a fabulous job, all while beating herself up because she can’t do the same things she used to be able to do when she was a stay-at-home mom. I told her one time that we weren’t the same moms we used to be. Our husbands made sure of that. Instead we are kickass survivors raising some great kids.

She is the friend who sent me a gift basket last year for Valentine’s Day because she knew I probably needed to be cheered up. For long time readers you might recall that last year, the day after Valentine’s Day was the day I learned that CF had quit his job of 15 years and moved out of state.

She’s stayed in touch and we check up on each other and compare stories. She told me that right after she took her own kids to Disney, their father took the new family to DisneyWorld. Schmuck! Putz! Tool! Evil sonofabitch! Piss poor excuse for a father!

I’m sure the knife in her heart was as sharp as the one that stabbed me when I realized that CF could sport a t-shirt with the fake kid’s high school on it and attend her cheer competition because “he wanted to support her”, despite the fact that he never once came to support his own damn daughter at any of her high school activities, much less wear a t-shirt to demonstrate his pride. EVER!

Strangely enough I had just attended a track meet for Rock Star the other night. My mom and I left after she finished competing and I sent her a text letting her know we were stopping for dinner if she wanted to join us.

I’ve always thought Picasso was the funny kid. He was always saying off the wall stuff, generally because he is so damn literal. But over the years I’ve discovered that Rock Star is a riot.

The other night was no exception. She had me in stitches. She does this thing where she gives names to everyone around her. People she doesn’t even know. And then she has this one-sided conversation with them. She’s so deadpan in her delivery. She apparently had taken over the restaurant as the manager and she was giving everyone tips on how to improve their service. The comments never ended and I was laughing so hard I couldn’t eat.

He’s missing that. He’s missing this incredible person she has become. He misses her attitude (okay, how much can anyone really miss that, right?) and her grit and determination. He is missing her as she transitions from this kid who lived and breathed for gymnastics into an athlete who is cheering and doing track. He completely missed her new life back in Virginia, where she was the star on the gymnastics and cheer teams. He never once saw her compete or cheered her on. She was incredible. Fantastic. He never attended Sectionals her freshman year, where she was the only kid in our area to advance to Regionals. And he wasn’t there her sophomore year when she not only advanced to Regionals, but was the first kid from our high school in years to advance to States. He chose to miss that because he was too busy living his new life with a whore and her kids.

But I was there. I watched our daughter compete against Level 9s and 10s, girls who practice every day, every day of the year, to earn her spot and advance. I was there for her final meet, cheering her on and taking pictures.

I was there at every cheerleading competition, screaming her name and cheering for her and her teammates. I’m going to be honest. I didn’t attend every home football game, but I was at most of them, watching her as opposed to the actual game most of the time. And I definitely was there to pick her up! I usually took her and her friends out to eat afterwards and then would take the kids home.

And I’m there now- watching her cheer. Watching her run hurdles for the first time. Watching her sprint. Watching her pole vault. I get to see all of that. He is missing out.

He missed out on meeting the three guys she dated. He missed out on seeing her dressed up for Homecoming last year. He missed out on teaching her to drive and to parallel park. He missed out on the tears that were shed when she realized she wasn’t getting her license on time. Wouldn’t want to see that, though, huh? Especially since it was his fault. He missed seeing the smile on her face when she got her permit the first time, and the huge smile on her face when she passed her driver’s test. He missed out on seeing her get her first car.

She has no desire to take him out for breakfast when it’s been a few days since she’s seen him. She doesn’t tell him, “You need to spend some quality time with me,” like she does me. She doesn’t tell him about her day, or her life. She hasn’t filled him in on everything that is going on with track. She doesn’t tell him she loves him every time she leaves him. I get all of those things.

He has no idea who her teachers are, who her friends are, or what she’s up to. None.

He wasn’t there when she got her first job and he has no idea she has excelled at it, or that her bosses love her. He has no idea she is part of the so-called “dream team”.

He has no idea that Picasso is planning on going out for football this fall. He missed seeing his band performances last year. He missed going on field trips with him. He missed taking him to the store so that he could get what he needed in order to make his costume last year and the year before. He has no idea the hard work he put into either of those costumes. As with Rock Star he has no idea who his friends are, who his teachers are, what kind of grades he’s getting or how he spends his days. He doesn’t know how his son always seems to have a huge group of female friends.

He’s missed the orchestra concerts and the choir concerts. He’s missed the new drawings. He’s missed his funny commentary. He has no idea that Picasso has been growing his hair out or that it’s long enough for me to mess with him (my kid) and put it up in a ponytail and a man bun. He hated that one, btw! He’ll never understand why I laugh when I think of picking out the wooded background for school pictures because ultimately, Picasso decided to wear a suit for picture day this year. He has no idea how tall his son has gotten in the last two years.

He’s not the one who drops Picasso off at the roller skating rink or a friend’s house so he can hang out.

Picasso doesn’t walk into a room and hug him. He doesn’t tell him that he loves him. Picasso doesn’t want Deadpool to be “their thing”; he wants it to be our thing. He didn’t get to take him to see the first Star Wars in the new trilogy, or Rogue One. I’m going to be the one taking him to see Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2. CF hasn’t taken him out for dinner or to a movie or spent any time with him in almost two years. He has missed all of his son’s incredibleness. He doesn’t get to hear his son tell him things like, “You’re the best dad ever!” or “Hug!” or “I love you.” No, his son says about him, “My dad is dead to me,” and “He’s a douche.” He mocks him and says in a tearful voice, imitating his father, “I was in a war! I fought in the soccer squadron.”

He’s missed all of the holidays with his kids since August of 2015. He hasn’t attended a single sporting event or school event since that time. He hasn’t had a single in person conversation with either of his kids since that time. He hasn’t seen either of his kids since he walked out the door on February 3rd, 2016 without saying a single word.

I had forgotten Rock Star was home when he left for the last time. Maybe Picasso was, too. I don’t know where I was. I just know I returned in the morning and my mom told me he had left. I have no idea what I was doing or where I had been. So when I asked Rock Star why she was taking this so hard when she hadn’t been all that close to her dad before she told me, “Mom, I was sitting there in the other room. He walked out the door without saying anything to me. Not, ‘I love you’, or ‘Goodbye,’ or anything. He just left.” That explains so much of why she’s had a hard time with this.

I’m going to take the advice in that article. I’m going to be there for them. I have been there for them. I will continue to embrace them, their lives, their quirks, the laughter and tears they create. I will drink it all in. While he’s cheering on the fake daughter that he’s “not that close” to, I’ll be cheering on our daughter. While he’s attending show and tell with one of his new fake sons I’ll be attending our son’s concerts and taking him to the movies. When our daughter graduates next year I’ll be there, watching her walk across that stage and planning her graduation party. He won’t be anywhere around. Same for Picasso a few years later. When it’s time to make decisions regarding colleges he will have no idea what they are considering, or where they end up attending. I will. When they get married and when grandchildren make their appearances (should any of that actually happen) I will be there. I’ll be the one that can reminisce with them throughout the years.  He’s missing out on all of this for a whore and her four kids. His loss.

Shaking My Head

I honestly don’t know what goes through the mind of a cheater but I’ve got a pretty good idea, thanks to clicking on various links. The thought process defies logic.

Chump Lady is often accused of being single minded and lumping all cheaters together. Most of the people who have a problem with this are cheaters themselves, or people who want to reconcile with a cheater because they don’t want to believe their cheater is not super special. I’ve got to say though that she is remarkably dead on. Seriously! Read the cheater blogs. Read the other woman blogs. They all say basically the same thing. I’m sure the same thing could be said about those who’ve been betrayed.

We probably all come across as shrill, bitter, sexless people who deserved to be cheated on because we’re guilty of denying the cheater his or her happiness. Remember- happiness trumps everything! Don’t worry about who all you hurt or any of the destruction you cause. Your happiness is the only thing that matters.

Oh, probably those who have been cheated on but who bend over backwards to appease the cheater and their AP aren’t considered bitter. No, they’re considered to be enlightened.

I read the comments sometimes on the other sites and I think, “Holy cow! This is exactly what they mean when they refer to Dr. Simon and his whole: It’s not that they don’t see; it’s that they disagree philosophy.”

Someone who has gleefully been deceiving his or her spouse for months, writing about it in detail, talking about how the spouse falls short in every category while the AP (or APs, as the case may be) is the most wonderful, perfect person on the planet who understands him/her and is his/her soul mate, gets caught and now shit has hit the fan. What do commenters say? I’m so sorry you’re going through this. I hope it works out between you and your AP. Oh wait! That’s what they say while the writer is embroiled in the affair. I hope it works out. You deserve to be happy. Love is so precious. You deserve to be loved. You need to explore this connection or you’ll regret it forever. You two are meant to be.

Apparently those that are betrayed don’t deserve a damn thing. We’re collateral damage in the quest for happiness.

I’ve seen comments where they tell the writer that they are so sorry the cheater is in so much pain. Why? They’ve brought it upon themselves. If you want to feel sorry for someone feel sorry for the cuckolded spouse! Feel sorry for the spouse who finds his or her life falling apart once the truth is revealed. Feel sorry for the kids who are watching their family be destroyed. You can feel especially sorry for those kids if they’ve had to move out of the family home and/or leave the area and their school/friends/lives behind. Those are the people who deserve your sympathy. Not the person who has been going out and fucking strangers. Oh, I’m sorry. Fucking the new soul mate.

They speak of open marriages. Yes, that’s a brilliant solution. The cheater can still have the spouse appliance who takes care of the nitty gritty and have as many fuck buddies as he or she wishes. What a great idea! Hey, what does the betrayed spouse get? STD testing?

I always love this request for an open marriage. It seems to me that most people who are asking for one don’t quite grasp that there are rules to an open marriage as well. It’s not a free for all pussy fest (or dick fest, as the case may be). If you can’t obey a simple marriage vow that says you won’t fuck another person I’m not sure how you can handle a whole new set of rules. Or that you would even be willing to follow those rules.

No, what I think happens is the cheater thinks, “Oh! An open marriage. Now that’s something I could use. My wife can still do all her wifely duties. I won’t lose time with my kids (if that’s even something that concerns me). I won’t have to live on half of my paycheck, or forego using the wife’s if she makes more than me. I don’t lose half my 401k or any of my other retirement accounts. I don’t have to split up household items or possibly move out of the family home. And I can still go out and fuck anything that moves. All the perks of being single and none of the responsibilities. Yes! Let’s do an open marriage.

What else do you get when a cheater has been caught? Well, there’s this idea that it’s a damn shame that the cheated on spouse is making this whole thing such a public affair, no pun intended. Yes, because the problem isn’t what the lying, cheating spouse did; it’s how the lied to, cheated on spouse reacted!

I know this is way too simple for most people to believe it actually works, but if you don’t want people to know you’re a lying cheater try not lying and cheating. If you want to fuck anything that moves and deceive your spouse then pull on your big boy or girl pants and face the music. Stop whining and acting like you are the poor, aggrieved victim. You are not. You are the perpetrator.

Chump Lady was also correct when she said that cheaters take it for granted that reconciliation is always on the table and that they like controlling the flow of information.

Information is power and most of the cheater apologist’s are quick to point out when one of them is sharing too much. Don’t give all the details! Don’t tell her/him everything! Don’t be so transparent! Look to Esther Perel for advice on cheating! Sharing too many details just hurts your spouse so you’re doing him or her a favor by not not being completely honest.

Bullshit! That is image management at its finest. Not sharing the details because “it would hurt my spouse” is a load of crap. You don’t share the details because you don’t want them to know certain things. You like having the upper hand. You like keeping this poor deceived person in the dark. You don’t tell the truth because it benefits YOU!

I’ve been having an affair with Janet for 4 months. It’s over now.

is a lot different from

I’ve been having an affair with Janet for 4 months. When I told you I was staying late at the office I was actually meeting with her at the restaurant we go to every year for our anniversary. I’ve introduced her to all our mutual friends and they accepted her; we hung out with them, in fact. I’ve had her over to the house and she’s worn your clothes and we had sex in our bed. We’ve made plans to get married and be together forever. I told her all your secrets and complained about all of your flaws to her. She knows everything about you. We had sex two and three times every time we were together. She does x, y, and z, which you never did. I think I’m in love with her and cutting her off is killing me.

In the first situation you can play dumb and might still have a chance at saving your marriage. In the second situation you’ve got a lot to answer to. You no longer have the advantage of knowing everything and keeping your spouse in the dark. It’s a lot harder to convince your wife that Janet meant nothing when she knows the full story and the depth of your deception than when all she knows is you were fucking Janet for four months

So please, save the bullshit about wanting to protect the spouse you lied to and cheated on from anymore hurt. You want to protect your own ass.

And for the love of God, STOP with the “I don’t want to hurt my spouse anymore than I have.” The hurt you have caused already is tremendous. It’s like a murderer saying, “I don’t want to kill this person anymore than I already have.”

As for possibly not wanting to reconcile if your spouse outs your affair to anyone and everyone… well, aren’t you just full of your cheating self? You are taking it for granted that your spouse actually wants your lying, cheating self back. Naturally, once you let this person know you’ve been out fucking someone new YOU have a choice to make. YOU get to take your time and decide whether or not their behavior was appropriate enough for you to accept their request of reconciliation.

If you have cheated on your spouse and you truly desire to reconcile you will take whatever anger and fallout comes your way. You will accept that others may know what you’ve done and judge you. You will accept all of that as the price you pay to reconcile after you’ve cheated and deceived.

Finally, I’ve sat there slack jawed as I read various cheaters talk of standing by their spouse’s side should something awful happen to him or her. Are you fucking kidding me? I can assure everyone out there reading that if I were to be diagnosed with cancer or be in some sort of awful accident, Cousinfucker is the LAST person I would want by my side.

In fact, if I were unconscious and he were stupid enough to come sit by my bed, when I woke from my coma I would stab him with a damn scalpel. DO NOT lie to me, cheat on me, and destroy my life and then try to preserve your image by “standing by me”.

Granted, I know what a liar CF is but how devastating would it be to find out your spouse, who was by your side throughout your entire medical crisis, was actually cheating on you and lying to you that entire time? Disgusting!

At least I’m honest when I gleefully point out to others that should something befall Cousinfucker I would be the person tasked with deciding whether or not to discontinue life support or to make all medical decisions. I don’t dress it up as, “Oh, he’s my husband, the father of my children. Of course I would stand by him if anything bad were to happen.” No, you’d hear something like this:

Doctor, we need to discontinue life support.

M’am, it’s a sprained ankle.

Look, he wouldn’t want to live like this. Pull the plug!

Mrs. Cousinfucker, it’s not a life threatening injury!

I’m also not much touched by their fervent claims that they will always do right by the disrespected spouse because he or she is the father/mother of their children. Who cares? It obviously didn’t mean enough for you to not cheat on your spouse so why tout it as so powerful now? As I remarked about CF telling our kids that I was a good mother, “Who the fuck cares?” Him saying that was about the lowest compliment he could ever give me. I’m a good mom. I sure the fuck hope so considering the fact that you abandoned your children for a whore and left them with me. What? If I’d been a bad mom you would have tried to take them with you when you ran off with the whore? Or you wouldn’t have fucked a whore if I’d been a bad mom?

They are so full of shit. The excuses, the romanticizing the affairs, the bullshit… it’s almost too much to take. Yet it’s oddly comforting because you realize that they all pretty much follow the same script, and they’re all pretty much self-centered whiny babies who think only of themselves and whatever it is they want.

1myyfx

He Makes Me Sick

I was all set to write about interrogatories and taxes on Monday. That day has come and gone. Interrogatories suck! It has been a test of patience to not just let loose with every nasty thought that plagues my mind.

Fast forward to today. I’m sending some more documentation to my lawyer’s assistant. I had found the message from The Saint where he stated that Cousinfucker was paying for their divorce. I decide I may as well send along the lovely pictures they’ve been plastering on Facebook. You know, pictures of the two of them posing together happily, despite his grueling battle with PTSD which rendered him unable to work. Pictures of him and her youngest child posing for Show and Tell, an activity in which he never indulged his actual children. What do I come across?

Oh yes! It’s the profile picture of the two of them which I had seen before. This time though I read the comments. Harley tells people to keep in mind that they had just been at her daughter’s cheer competition. People make comments about the t-shirt he’s wearing because it appears he is wearing a t-shirt in support of his favorite team’s arch rival. No, no, no! It’s her daughter’s school mascot. It was sooooo painful to put that shirt on but he wanted to support his “step-daughter”. The whore chimes in, “You know he must really love her to put that shirt on!”

You two are so adorable! Do I even need to point out that that cousin fucking piece of shit never once attended a single cheer competition for his own daughter?

Hey! Maybe that’s the reason his kids have nothing to do with him. He was a piss poor excuse of a father and now he’s strutting around like Daddy of the Year for four kids that have a father. An involved father at that. Nah, I’m sure it’s because I have poisoned their minds. As he’s whining to Rock Star that he hopes she will talk to him once again he forgets that actions speak louder than words. His words say his children are very important to him. His actions say, “You kids don’t mean shit to me. I couldn’t be bothered to go to your competitions or participate in your lives. Now excuse me while I show up at my ‘step-daughter’s’ competitions and take my fake son to show and tell. I love them and need to support them.”  Wouldn’t surprise me to find out he’s coaching one of their teams as well.

Even better are all the comments about how happy they look! Oh, and Jezebel loves them both! Someone told her she deserved to finally be happy.

Really? She’s just entitled to take whatever the hell she wants? Because it makes her happy? Fuck the two families they destroyed! Fuck the betrayed husband who has to watch as his whore of an ex and her mentally unstable lover/cousin play house with his kids! Fuck the betrayed wife who has lost her home, who moved her kids once again, who has lost everything, who works two jobs just trying to feed her kids. They are happy and that trumps everything! You don’t even want to know what would make me happy and I’m 100% sure none of her friends and relatives would tell me I was entitled to make myself happy at her expense.

Then again that seems to be the common refrain. As long as the two cheating lovebirds are happy then all is well. No one wants to look around and see the damage caused by the cheating and the lies. Being unhappy is a perfect justification for being a cheating asshole. Who can say it’s wrong when they’re so happy? Life is short! Too short to do the right thing apparently. I hope they all burn in hell.

Chump Lady is so correct when she says no contact is the only way to go. Having to dredge all this crap up in order to prove what an absolute asshole he is only makes my blood boil. I already know he’s an asshole! Why do I have to prove it to everybody else?