Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Skanks, tramps and dirty hos for $500 please, Alex.

I know where my husband another woman's bed. A dirty, unattractive, uneducated, pot smoking woman who doesn't have a car or a place of her own.

Oh dear. Have I said too much?

And I don't miss him. It was as if a switch was thrown. Maybe it was the same one that was thrown that took him from family man to piece of trash. He told me finally, and a thousand pounds lifted off of my shoulders.

I am clean, and the majority of my life is stretched out in front of me.

The only thing that hurts me--my kids and wanting only the best for them. They live in this bubble where life is beautiful and moms and dads stay together. That bubble is about to be popped. That kills me.

And now there is no turning back. The bubble is done for because I wouldn't take him back if he were the last man on earth.

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