Is it weird that right now, with everything else going on in my life, all I want to do is meet you for coffee and ask you why?
Mum will never push for actual answers, and I can understand why; I really can. She’s been hurt enough and it would be like adding salt to the wound, which in this case would probably include vinegar too.
But I wanna be a little selfish (and I think I have the right to be) because it isn’t just mum you hurt. You said it was nothing to do with me – those were your words exactly – and I never gave you chance to finish whatever it was you were going to say… I was so angry and hurt I just yelled…. In fact I think screamed …. At you to get out my fucking room.
That day when we found out and you finally admitted to it when given proof you didn’t just break my mum’s heart – you broke mine too.
You were the man that all other men had to measure up too. You were the standard I held men too…. Do you have any clue how hard it is for me to trust men now?
Do you even care?
There’s two questions I would actually want answering and whether or not I got answers I have no idea; whether I would get HONEST answers I’m at a loss.
1) why did you do it? I don’t mean the bullshit you told mum (“all of this” while waving your arms around to imply the house and everything in it. Or “you never listen” cuz its hard to listen when you don’t talk, or just say you’re “fine”.)
2) have you done this before? Is the whore the first woman you cheated on mum with? I have a feeling that she isn’t because if you cheat once you’ll do it again – especially if you think you can get away with it.
That second question sort of brings me some comfort. Because I know that in the end you’ll end up a lonely old man with nobody while mum and myself will always have family and REAL friends who aren’t two faced, back stabbing cunts.
As much as I want to sit and ask you these things, without the whore or her brood watching, I know it will never happen. You won’t ever agree to meet up because you know deep down I am my mother’s daughter and you can’t predict how I would react. Borderline and Bipolar are a bitch like that, because even I wouldn’t know how I’d react.
One of two things would happen…well three….
1) I’d burst into uncontrollable tears that nothing would stop.
2) I’d lash out and either hurt myself or you in the process.
3) I would go dead calm and start planning your demise.
To be honest you’re not worth the risk of me doing something that I’ll regret and/or going to jail.
The day you left I lost my dad.
The day you left, my dad died.
It’s a shame that the happy memories I have of you and us as a family won’t die or stop slowly killing me.