The events of the past 24 hours surprise me not in the least. As I have stated time and time again, apparently I am to be the whipping boy, the scapegoat, you name it - forever. This just proved it again. This time, I don't back down. I will not talk to her, will not apologize, nothing. I'm fairly certain this is "it" for good. The only reason there was EVER a discussion before was me bringing it up - and always to no avail, always for the same damn reasons. And now I won't even do that. I am done talking, arguing, discussing, and getting upset and angry over something I have no control over and apparently can never change. So we will most assuredly be divorced at sometime in the near future. I always had hope until yesterday. Not much, mind you, and everything I ever thought, dreamed or planned was based on that hope. It's not to be. The sooner I figure that out and start focusing on life after Shelly, the better. She has assured it to this point and I'm certain that she will continue to do so.
The draft of an email I was going to send her but decided not to:
It was such a slap in the face telling me that you "weren't sold on the room idea". The very idea that you couldn't stomach spending the night with your husband who was reaching out to you and trying to reconnect when at the same time if your no good scum sucking lover Cali called you would hook up with him in motel room in an instant - that speaks volumes. I am so goddamn mad I am still seeing red a day later. What does it tell me? It tells me you are always going to hold me responsible for everything.
I'll tell you this - if you hadn't been so goddamn busy trying to fuck Cali all the time and hanging out with that disgusting piece of human slime scumball Siobhan, you wouldn't have lost everything. But you DID do it, and yet you take no part of the blame. Fuck that bullshit.
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