Feeling A Little Vindictive Today
I know you will read this. Do you know why? Because your ego won’t let you let do otherwise. So you can laugh and snicker with all your friends while you’re crying inside. What would they think if they knew the truths that I knew about you? You can try to run and hide, you can spew forth all your old lies, the same ones you’ve told about how many other women all your life, but in the end, it’s all the same. You sit where you are, lost to everything that could have been, and miserable as sin, trying so hard to maintain those appearances that don’t mean a darn thing in the end.
I always felt so bad for you. I married you out of pity. Pity for what I had given away. Pity for what I thought you should mean to me. Pity for the poor baby who had gone through so much in his life.
Let me see. Your first wife turned into a lesbian because, well, you never really did do much for her in bed. I so get that now. Because once I got a real man into my bed and I found out the difference—I was more than a little shocked. Dude, I thought you were the best. Fine, at least a close second to one who shall not be named, but you ranked up there. Then I found out. Maybe you should sleep with fewer men. Talking to your current girlfriend really opened my eyes and clued me in to just how long you’d been playing your game and lying about how you, ahem, related to men in more intimate moments. I wasn’t just shocked there—I was revolted. Me, who can pick a bi guy out of a crowd to hit on and who has never once had an issue dating a guy that was into guys. You, you made me ill.
Then again, maybe if you slept with fewer women and just concentrated on the one at hand, you’d perform better. When you forget which one you’re with when it does tend to cause issues.
I love the mythology you’ve built about around yourself, how you are always the great guy and the rest of the world is a bunch of losers who can never compete. I look at you now and wonder-geez, what the heck does he eat. I am more than glad I got away from that. Some days I can still hear your voice as you begged me to stay, told me I was the only one, the lies you tell to everyone. The tears in your eyes and the ring on my finger…just not enough to make any of it true.
But, ya know what? I am so over you. I am just so over you. I don’t miss you anymore. I hardly even think of you at all, until someone brings you up. I have such better things to do. I have dated some real losers after being with you, but you know, they were all at least man enough to take care of their responsibilities and not torture and torment me for over nine months. Nor did they use that as a sympathy chip to get into other women’s pants. And I know you did. The women all did so love to come to me to talk. Not so many of the men, but then they never really knew about the rest of your life, did they? Or have you changed your patterns and only pursue married men now?
I married you and convinced myself I loved you over one tiny little girl. I divorced you and escaped you and hated myself for another tiny little girl. I give thanks every single day of my life I left the monster that is you. Every single day. Away from you and your evil ways and your poison mouth and despicable lies I am not depressed. I am not forlorn. I am happy. I am productive. I am enjoying my life. I am going out. I have friends. I still have friends you didn’t scare away all that time ago in Arkansas. People who still respect me and know what a liar you are.
Karma really works.
I got everything I could ever ask for in my life. I got my fairy tale happy ending—and it is only beginning. I am with a man who makes me soar. He is incredible in bed. So good I wonder why I ever bothered with you or why I thought you might be. Someone who is honest and truthful and loyal. Which is all I ever asked for. I never asked for fidelity. I knew you were incapable of it. See, turns out I was right.
I cannot believe how bad I felt for you all this time. I thought you were a good man deep down. I thought you had a heart. Now I do know. That streak of heartless bastard I always knew was there actually is the true you.
Weren’t we discussing karma? I get to work from home. Teach. Raise my children myself. Pay all my bills on my own. Have everything I want. And I have an incredible man who gets me and loves me at my side the entire time. Hmm. Based on this, whatever did you have to offer me other than the guilt of that first tiny little creature I gave birth to despite you and all your daily attempts to kill her?
I hope you are happy with the life you have created for yourself. Stop thinking about me, you jerk. I know when you do and I am not amused. Stop missing me. I was a fluke. I was a hurt little girl that you took and battered on some more. It did take me a long time, years, to recover and to get over you.
Guess what. I did it. And I find you completely unremarkable. I should have had more fun while I could, since you always made certain you did.
And one last jibe, while I am tossing them out. That naïve cowboy you yourself introduced me to? Yeah-he’s the one. And he is so much better than you. He is everything you told me you were, but could never provide or be or prove. He’s is that and so very much more.
Enjoy the life you created for yourself. I know I am going to be enjoying mine.
