Go to hell…

Dayum. Who knew?
The response to my first ever blog post was overwhelmingly positive. I received tons of “you go girl” type texts, emails, phone calls, and messages on Facebook. I know Facebook doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things but my blog post got 202 likes and 65 comments in two days. Call me douchey but that actually does matter to me. It makes me feel freaking AWESOME. Friends I haven’t heard from in years contacted me to fill me in on their lives and divulged intimate details about their divorces and custody battles. I made the post public and I guess when you do that friends of friends can see it when your friends “like” it. Messages from strangers started pouring in, women and men sharing stories of their splits and how my honesty was inspiring to them. I wouldn’t wish a failed marriage on anyone but it was comforting to know I’m not alone in this.
One thing was a bit troubling to me, though. Many of the messages were about how my ex is an asshole for doing this to me, how dare he, the guy is dead inside, he has no soul, yada yada.

The truth is, he’s actually not a bad guy.

He just fell out of love with me.

I don’t know when, I don’t know why, I don’t even know if he ever was truly in love with me to begin with. I have to try to believe that he was at some point for my own sanity’s sake. Look, I’m still mad as hell and want to punch him in the dick, but I don’t think he’s some evil villain. He is always kind to me. He’s only told me to, “Go to hell,” twice, and those were responses to vitriolic texts I’d sent him. Since he moved out in January, I’ve sent him a plethora of incredibly venomous texts. When I feel hurt I lash out at him and spew hate via text. One after the other. I’m so sad, and so angry I send a barrage of texts telling him he’s not a real man, he’ll be alone for the rest of his life, I’m sorry for Willa that she has to have him as a father, etc. It feels damn good in the moment. Almost like heroin or something, (or so I imagine.) Such a high while I’m furiously texting, I’ll show him! Let me hurt him like he’s hurt me! Yes! Yes! Victory! Then 10 minutes pass and I feel sick. Just sick. I love this man. He doesn’t deserve to be treated like that.

Man, this is the first time I’ve cried while writing here. Probably won’t be the last.

This “hurt-rage” is a quality I despise about myself. My friends tell me to text them what I’m wanting to say to him instead of texting him but something takes over my brain. I lose control. One of my closest friends, Kylee, who has gone through a divorce herself tells me to, “Get better, not bitter.” I’d absolutely love to but it’s way easier said then done for me. Someday I will be strong like she has become. I’m very proud of her and respect her grace.

Jesus, I’m getting deep here and I hope I don’t regret being such an “open book.”

Anyway, the point of all that is he’s only said, “Go to hell,” TWO TIMES. That’s literally the worst thing he’s ever said to me. I’d say that’s a pretty decent guy considering how he could respond to me. He understands where it’s coming from so he forgives me (or so he says,) but I can never take back what I say. Once you say it it’s out. And I HATE that. On a lighter note, he brings me food and pays ALL of my bills with no complaints. I respect him for being a hard worker and he’s the best at what he does. The greatest thing about him, of course, is that he gave me Willa! My dad put it the best the other day while she was on his lap and I was telling him something that I will tell you a little later in this entry, or possibly save it for another blog post entirely. Dad said, “How could I be mad at him when he gave me her? She’s magic!” Not exactly a direct quote but something like that. I could call him and ask for the exact line but then he would ask why I want to know and I’d have to tell him about this blog. Not sure if I want my father reading the future posts of my possible adventures in teabagging.
Tonight when I started writing I was planning to divulge what happened the night before Mother’s Day that was the real impetus for deciding to start dating and start blogging. I didn’t have the ballz to share it in my first entry but now I’m more comfy with all of this baring my soul business. I feel like this entry took a different route and I hope you’re not disappointed that it got a bit dark and wasn’t as witty. I swear on our friendship the next one will be way more juicy and entertaining. Thinking about it, it’s still a bit dark, but more like a dark comedy.

I included this picture of my kid in a cap and gown because it’s hilarious and can hopefully make up for this sob fest blog entry.

Thank you for reading. Seriously! It’s so cool people are taking the time to do so. The site manager tells me over 300 people have read my story. That’s not why I started doing this but it’s totes exciting to me. I’ve felt like an unlovable piece of nothing for the past year so this has really been a shot in the arm and I obviously find writing this very cathartic.
Oh, apparently you can “follow” my blog and get notices when there’s a new entry. Not sure if it has to be done solely via computer or can be done on a smartphone as well but it would be rad if I developed a following. Right now my Aunt and cousin are my only followers so hi Maddie and Julie Z!
Until next time…


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