My Birthday: Sat alone in the house. Thanksgiving: Sat alone in the house. Christmas: Sat alone in the house. New Year's: Sat alone in the house. Valentine's: Sat alone in the house. "Our house..."our".... fucking bullshit. I've now been in "our" house longer than you lived here with me. You're a fucking coward. You're a fucking liar. Hope you're having a wonderful time fucking whatever random dude you're fucking now. And I say random since you could have only known him a short time when you started fucking him soon after we were supposed to marry. Although I get the feeling that whomever you're fucking now isn't the same random dude you were fucking right after you broke it off. Which means you're already on to yet another random dude. What a whore. And if it isn't some "random" dude.. if it's someone you knew when we were together... well then that makes you a lying, cheating fucking whor...
We would have been married 2 years ago today. I would have cried trying to get my vows out. We would have met our friends and my family for dinner near the beach and I would have said the words "My wife" for the first time in my life. ... I doubt I come to mind for you very much at all anymore, but I still think of you at some point every single day. And that isn't hyperbole or exaggeration. Every. Single. Day. Of course, what I think is "You lying, cheating, fucking ungrateful cunt whore." but still, at some point, every day, you come to mind. It doesn't matter who I'm with, where I'm at, who I'm fucking or laughing with or playing video games with or swimming with or have riding next to me in the red car... whether I'm here or in California or New York... if I'm with friends driving a Ferrari on the private test track in Italy... One way or another, you come to mind every day. And it's never pleasant. There is no happin...
Today is hard. But don't I say that every day? It's been 5 weeks to the day since you dropped the bomb on everything. 2 weeks ago today we were to wed. This time (1:06am) on that day would have been deep into our wedding night. Waves crashing on the beach outside the open doors of our room, beyond the private pool and deck. I would know what your dress looks like by now... but now I'll never even see it at all. Never see the perfection of your curves in it. Your smile in the sun, bare feet in the sand, bouquet in hand. I would have cried my eyes out in happiness. I actually haven't cried in all of this. A friend said that she thinks some things hurt so badly that even tears can't do it justice. I think she is profound. So much gone. So much lost. So pointless. Tonight too many of the really bad thoughts keep winning. The images of the hands of other men gliding over the body of my wife. You smiling up at them. The images of your hands on them... and worse... a...
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