So his financials finally arrived with my attorney. -Mine HAD to be in by December 1st. Go figure. No rules apply to him. And in straight up black and white, in front of me, more proof-as if I needed any-that the person I loved is dead. Dead. I wish I knew when it happened. But I don't. So I am stuck with my own stupidity, my own naive, Pollyanna damn attitude of the last decade. I am stuck with the embarrassment of having faith when I never should have. I am stuck feeling like THE. STUPIDEST. PERSON. ON. THE. PLANET. I am stuck basically with what I call a fucktard hangover. It is hanging on right now. No matter how much water I drink. No matter how many Advil I take. The fucktard hangover is killing me. Killing. Me.
How does a person deal with 30 years of her life being a lie? Because with this new, yet soooo fucking old, information and hindsight, he may have always been this broken. And I had him on a pedestal. And he made me believe I was a piece of worthless shit. And the world believed him, and all his lies, and somehow no one saw thru any of his bullshit smorgasbord. And even now, people say 'it takes two', or 'I don't want to take sides'. Well let me just call BULLSHIT on that. It absolutely, unequivocally DOES NOT TAKE TWO, and by not taking sides-oh you have taken sides.
And I WAS a dumbass. I WAS the stupidest , most naive woman on the planet. Sadly, I AM changed forever. Forever. But I AM still breathing, even if just barely. You know what? WAS and not AM is a fantastic place, actually. It is a strong, wonder womanesque, start to a new life.
But damnit, this hangover. Ugggg. Hangovers are temporary, right? And this fucktard hangover may get me down.....really down.....but it will get better. And in the end-well fucktard is still a fucktard or worse-if I even knew a better way to describe what he has become.
But me? I am still me. A changed, scarred version of me but ME nonetheless. And that is better than Advil for this hangover. Any day.
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