Thursday, December 1, 2011

so much to say, too tired to go on

HI. I'm paranoid. I always have been. From the beginning I placed value upon you that maybe no one else would. I was worried you would leave. I was worried you would fuck my friends and or fuck your friends. Why wouldn't you? You could. Getting away with it, not being discovered didn't play into it because I was fanatically addicted to what you gave to me. The support was unparralel. Fantastic.

It's all gone and with all that I have learned and experienced some things still come floating up.

You said you just now found the balls to ask for the money I have been avoiding giving you. I tell you that I didn't know, did not realize I wasn't paying my share. I am paranoid that you don't believe that. You can't believe that because you were thinking all those months that I did know, that I was laughing about it, loving all that extra money I was getting without sharing it with you and our beautiful child when you both needed it most.

I have this terrible image in my mind imagining this terrible monster you seem to say that I am. You said that I was. You said it a few times from what Vanessa mentioned to me as you raged against her falling in love with me. Like it was impossible, like I am some sort of feind incapable of being kind or loving.

You are missing a vital key element: I am not the same man that I was with you. I am not the same man that I was with you and me and Toby. I can not be, will not be that man ever again. You broke me so good, you made me wake up and realize the monster that I had become and most if not all the things that ruined our relationship I discarded.

I discarded those things for us. For you and I and Mara and never really made it back to you all the way. I never understood you or treated you right and you did the same for me. Failing to understand me, failing to see me.

So now an ugly picture of you emerges. A cold hearted bitch that talks shit about me while I am taking actions against your will. Trying to steer me and when I fail to heel you rage and make a fuss where I cannot hear or see and let it smolder.

I don't want to believe it, but I am paranoid. I wonder if you hate me, really think that I might hate you, that I enjoy seeing you in pain. That I am like my father in so many ways, that I am so many things that I said I was not.

Now from your new vantage point you can see me for this animal I am. These things you have said over time and they all add up to the way you treat me in person, to the way Richie treats me in your home and I don't give a fuck about how polite it seems to be if it is all a shame.

It disgusts me to think that you cannot be open with me about the way you feel, that your secret emotions, your secret perception of me is so important that you hide it, that you do not verbally attack me for fear that I will respond and do my best to rip it apart and then as I leave feeling justified you pick up the pieces of bullshit you have assembled about me and claim they are all still true and that somehow I used my vast power over words and the situation to manipulate you for a short time into agreeing that I am correct and you are wrong about me.

Oh I think evil thoughts. I have plans to take the Jeep, take the baby, take everything I can from you like some sick fuck. Just as I have dreams of us happy together wherever whatever. I have plans to be at your wedding with Richie or whoever you find

But you see fantasy and reality are different.

I don't take the Jeep because of honor. I wont take your child or do you any harm because it is against my code of conduct. Fuck the consequences reality sets and the rules set down by the government. I don't give a fuck about any of that compared to my own moral structure.

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