Can't send this. Posting here.
And now, UAB's Venting Corner...
WW,
You are having an affair. You didn't make a mistake. You didn't have an accident. You are having an affair. It's not over, it's not done. It's not in the past. You are actively doing it.
When I met you 11 years ago, I never, ever dreamed you could be so cold, calculating, or soulless.
I never expected this from you. Ever. I gave you my all. I chose you, I chose your son. I raised him as my own. I was your shoulder to cry on, your protector when tough times came. I was your confidant and your best friend.
And you repay me with treachery. With betrayal. You are throwing me away like some high school boyfriend. You bitch.
What a monster you have become. You have betrayed not only me, but our son. You have torn our family apart and done irreparable damage to us all. You are, without a doubt, the most heartless and selfish bitch I have ever met. Worse than even my mother.
You've left me bleeding in the street as you skip off to your new life. Wow. Just wow. What a bitch move.
And all you want to talk about is how YOU feel. How I dared to spy on you. You feel violated. Your trust has been betrayed. You talk to me about the fear of bombs I will drop on you. How my actions to distance myself from you hurt and confuse you. Oh, I'm sorry. Does being completely unable to trust your partner bother you?
Welcome to my hell, bitch. You stupid, arrogant, monstrous, soul-sucking, vapid demon.
You said you felt like I didn't quite understand your depression and anxiety. I tried to work with you, I helped you through treatment. I was as patient as someone from the outside could be. But I guess that wasn't enough for you. No, no. You felt it necessary to impart your psychological damage upon me.
You didn't even stop to think about that when you made the decision to go be an adulterous slutbag, did you? See, adultery (or infidelity, or whoring, or you know, whatever you wanna call your little game of hide the salami) is abuse. But you didn't stop to think about what while you were on your back in POSOM's bed.
That's right. You are abusing me. You have no idea of the depth of my trauma from this. The shock, the disbelief. The misery. You didn't even care when I told you I woke up screaming one night after dreaming you and POSOM sent me a video of him doing the most pornographic things to you. You've left my heart, mind and soul shattered. Congratulations! I now have a complete understanding of your psychological issues. You've given me my own. The obsession, the fear, the doubt, the worry. The incessant need to know everything. I can't go 10 seconds without thinking about the knife you stuck in my heart. I can't get the images of POSOM fucking you out of my head. I hear your moans when I close my eyes. Do you get that? Am I painting a clear enough picture of what you've done to my psyche? Maybe not, let me keep going.
I don't sleep. I don't eat. When I try to force food down my throat, I throw it back up. I can't focus. Every email or text I get from you sends me into a state of anxiety and panic. Heaven forbid I see you anytime soon. I may just faint.
Congratulations and thanks for this real mind fuck of a gift. It's going to take a LOT of therapy to get this damage out of my brain.
But you don't care. I'm not your problem. You don't care about anyone but yourself. What a selfish brat you are. That's right, a brat. I would say, "I don't even know who this woman is anymore." But you're not a woman. You're a fucking child. Just a girl. Your body may be 37, but damn, your mind is 14.
Have fun with your new sugar grandpa. Hope he keeps the viagra coming. After all, you just may get bored with his 2" dick and decide it's time to fuck another.
You wanna know why the sex sucks with him? Because he doesn't give a shit about you. He doesn't care about being in tune with your body, with meeting your needs in the bed. He's not with you for intimacy. He's with you because you're stupid enough to fulfill his little fantasy of letting him tap some hot, young ass. Boy, are you going to feel so stupid and used when he throws you away like the trash that you are. Do you know why dirtbags love sluts? Because there's no need to respect them. You're a notch on his bedpost. Have fun with that.
Oh, speaking of young and hot. He didn't quit the job at the agency for you. He never owned part of it. How stupid are you? He'd known you for a few weeks by that point. You're thirty-fucking-seven. You don't exactly look it, but the signs are there. Let me put this bluntly for you: You ain't that hot. No man is going to quit a business for 37 year old sloppy seconds - no wait, this is now your second failed marriage - sloppy thirds. Ah, who am I kidding? You've told me before, you've been a slut since high school. You've lost count of how many men you've been on your back and knees for. Who the hell knows what sloppy portion you are now?
Any man would quit his business for some hot 21 year old ass. But not you. Not a 37 year old. So don't flatter yourself, princess.
God, the mean things I've held back from saying to you. On Friday night, when you were painting your nails, I wanted to sneer and say, "Oh yeah, gotta make sure those toe nails look REALLY GOOD on POSOM's shoulders."
You found that new butt firming workout you want to try. I'm sure POSOM will love that. Whore.
It's not even the sex. You gave him your heart. And oh my God. How stupid you truly are for that. You're going to regret that. When you see that he gave you only his dick, you're going to feel so low. So broken. So used.
And you know what? I'm cracking a smile at that thought. I can't wait until you see POSOM's true colors. Feel the burn, bitch. Feel. The. Burn. And then I hope you drown in the sea of misery, destruction, deceit and fucked-up-ness that you'll be tossed into.
I can't wait for you to share my pain.
And just like you, I'm going to turn around and skip the fuck away.
[This message edited by UnlovedAndBroked at 3:56 PM, May 20th (Wednesday)]