Fresh Meat

Men suck. They are just animals who only look after themselves and eat their dang young for breakfast. I have a scent. The scent of fresh meat at the market place. It is disgusting. How do men know you are a wounded dang animal? I used to say I was a freak magnet. If there was a Chester near by, he would find me. Now I know I am a dang freak magnet and have been my whole damn life even when I believed love and goodness and forever was possible. It was a damn lie.

I work with the public. In one day, I had three different men STRONGLY come on to me.

Man #1, my gay friend. Claiming he would go straight if I would give him a chance. Um, NO!

Man #2 going thru his second divorce asked my coworker for my name, stood in line to talk to me, held up the line trying to get my number, which DUH is not available to anyone, only to give me his when he left.

Man #3 super cute, sexy accent , MARRIED regular customer in the parking lot when I went to lunch. Wanted to hug me, tried to stick his tongue down my throat and get me into his car. Oh my imaginary friend, if you were real and knew me, you would know how this effected me. Haven't slept well in days. As if I weren't already a hot damn mess.

Freak magnet. What does fresh meat smell like? And how do I wash the scent away???

I hate my life. And I hate fucktard for destroying my last bit of belief that there was any good in this world. I used to say he blamed me for everything-even bad weather. Now I blame him. I lived a sheltered life, totally believing in him and us and love and goodness and forever and NOW I am alone, unprotected in the dang lion's den, he is free of the weight of boring old me, and I am alone, and honestly PISSED off!

Happily ever single doesn't sound as scary as it used to. Life in this world however? Scary as hell. Men suck.

Sick Day

I took a sick day from work. Haven't used a single sick day in a year. Took one today....to find an f-ing lawyer so I could end my f-ing life.  I am sad beyond words. Beyond words. I cannot go on. I don't know how. I love him. I hate who he has become. I can't breathe. I can't eat. I don't want to breathe. I don't want to eat. I sound suicidal. I honestly am not.  I am just so heartbroken.

The same day I was served divorce papers, I got mail from the court saying he had pushed this off, filed a motion saying he wanted this moved to the inactive, dead, dormant file. You know-not really wanting to do this, really actually love my wife but don't know how to fix this file. Well in his next breath, he went forward. Threw me away like trash. Trash.....and I am so heartbroken I cannot breathe. So I write to you....my imaginary friend, who won't judge, or walk away because MY opinion on my life is contrary to what you think I should feel, do, say.

And I am heartbroken. And I don't know how to keep breathing. And my everything? Well he threw me away like trash.

So I took a sick day today. My first. In over a year. Because I cannot function. I want to go to bed and never wake up. My best friend, my better half, my person....my only person.....threw me away.

money and other complications

I need new bras. And new face stuff.

 But I was served papers yesterday that said we were irretrievably broken and couldn't buy or spend extravagantly on anything until this is finished-which can be done rather quickly. And oh so easily. 30 years of my life, with someone I loved and would have done anything for, and fought until the death for, can be finished in 90 days.

Ironically, do you know what 90 days from the day I was served is?? My 29th wedding anniversary.
90 days is all it takes to end my life, my happily ever after, my until death do us part.

And the only conversation we have had since I knew I was being served? He said all I seemed to be worried about is money. And he couldn't have been colder. Money? Really? Did he ever know me? Did he ever really exist? But I need new bras. And those cost money. And shoot me before I ask him for money. Money is what is on his mind.

Mine? That cute old couple eating ice cream, that will never be us. Loving me, holding me when I am sad, or happy, or scared, or mad, or...just because he loves to be touching me. That will never be me again. Kicking his butt fishing, nope not me. Laughing at stupid inappropriate things that only the two of us understand? Nope. Not me? Holidays. Ya never again.. Or hitting the snooze button and then rolling over until the next snooze just to hit it again? Nope. Not me. Ever again. Him putting his forehead to my forehead to ease his stress while he melts my heart? Nope. My best friend, the only person on the planet who gets (should I say got) me, the only place I have ever belonged, the one person I want to talk to on a bad day, a good day, on a regular day.  No. Never again. That is what is on my mind.

Fear of living under the freeway because I cannot support myself? Yes. That is me BUT no, honestly, I would give anything, ANYTHING, to not need his stupid money. But I need freaking bras and face stuff. And I gave my everything to him.

 I really may not survive this...really I don't think what is left of me can face the future. And no. Money has nothing to do with it.