Reflection from October 21st, 2012 @ Age 31
RE: THE *FIRST* TIME AROUND ;oD
It has just been brought to my attention by my ever-waning husband, that I married the most horrible person on this planet—except I’m not kidding, that’s the painfully saddening part. It pains me almost to death.
I mentally understand that people are different when they are facing mortality. But I did not have any idea the extent to which they might differ from their ordinary personalities. With this family, it’s a complete 180—like two fucking sets of people. It makes me sick, these fucking people—so flimsy, always swaying and bending with the wind. Wherever it might take them…
It makes me sick. That’s what I feel today.
Adam’s been completely emotionally void since I found out he was only buttering me up to protect his goddamned motherfucking money. I want to get this taken care of before the end of the year for income tax purposes. Honestly, it just makes me fucking sick.
So obviously he went on emotional overload and shut off again—like a broken goddamn circuit these people; they’re all fucking broken and they make me sick. So of course, it made me angry, and I texted him this:
“Kim [i.e. his ex-girlfriend he calls “crazy” and blames for keeping him from all his pretentious friends] was lucky. And don’t think I don’t know the only reason you don’t call me the same names. Otherwise people would see the horrible person you really are. To think that my brother is just sad because you’re not friends anymore! I feel sorry for you, such a fool. Don’t text me anymore Mr. Hyde. Just email me when my stuff is ready to pick up, and let me know what time you will be gone so I don’t have to see your two-face again.”
[Note: Earlier I said, “Well tell your second personality he’ll be missed—if he even exists anymore,” to which Adam responded, “Were these Pyrex bowls mine, or did you buy them?”]
To which he responded from above:
“Marissa. I need you to stop being mean to me. This is harassment and I don’t deserve this [LOL]. You can continue with these antics, but I do not have to deal with it. I know you are looking for a reaction out of me. So this is it. And that’s all you get. Good luck in life and I really do wish you the best, even though I know you don’t believe that. I hope you find what you are looking for and moreover, the help that you so desperately require.”
I hope he gets the flu and dies this winter. That’s not how I responded though. I just said, “You listen so well. Just to be clear—do not contact me again. Ever.” And that is that! It’s a wrap.
That crazy motherfucker—grandfather shoots himself in the chest in front of his wife, father throws a goddamned chair at his face, and he as a child cuts himself because his father is so goddamned mean. And here now he too, continues the tradition. He deserves to die. I wish I let him in the first place—maybe that was me playing god and I fucked up his FDC. But all the better, to let him do it on his own this time—let him die alone, reaping what he’s sewn.