It kind of sucks when someone draws a line in the sand that eventually ends with the two of you falling away from each other. It really sucks only in a peripheral sense though, as if someone cut a skin tag off your body that you never really had feeling in. Personally, I’m pleased when people talk shit, then bail. It makes it so that there’s one less person that I’m going to hang out with when things change for the better.

Here’s the thing. I know they read this. I KNOW they follow what I do.

People talk. I know the things that people say about me, my wife and kid. Including you. Do people honestly think, I’m blind to what goes on 300 miles away? It’s a fucking insult to my intelligence. I know more about what goes on there than I let on. If I say nothing, it’s because I’m plotting. Don’t feign innocence, because that too, is an insult to my intelligence.

When those you have accepted as yours betray you, don’t for a second think you’re welcome at my door, or in my life. I extended my hand countless times, and had it slapped back just as many. You’re on your own. Me? I’m used to it. I had to go elsewhere to find my family.

And you know what? It’s better this way, for everyone. For you, for me and for those who talk shit behind your back. I get rid of a millstone, you don’t have to pretend to give a shit, and they get a punching bag. As for me, I wish I could say that this event has caused something to change in me. In reality it’s only resulted in a few mouse clicks, a raised eyebrow and life as usual.

I’m sure it’s going to get a few people pissed at me. Meh. I have a reputation of being an asshole, so I suppose it’s time for me to start earning it, at least with my indifference. Luckily for me, the few people that actually WOULD be pissed at me, know better than to try and get involved with ill-concieved histrionics. Those who try and get me angry, will really only get my attention.

So, enjoy the life where everyone will leave you, and everyone will betray you. I would never have done that. One day down the road, you’ll look at the life you’ve made for yourself and wonder why things went so far away from what you wanted.

Hopefully you’ll be smart enough to understand the truth. YOU are to blame. Not her, not him. You. You are responsible for where you are, because of the piss-poor decisions you have made. We all are. As for me, you’ll be all but forgotten, a tattered page in a neglected book, sitting on a dusty shelf, in a dark and ignored room.

I’m pretty sure that’s the way it should be. Some people’s lives serve only as a cautionary tale, of what NOT to do. I think that’s appropriate for you.



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