This is my therapy.

This is therapy.


Dear P -

You are a complete and utter bitch and I absolutely hate you.  You are senseless, careless, selfish, delusional, and completely mental.  Hell, I should almost feel sorry for you.  Your actions have set me back years, if not decades.  I’ve become a wreck because of it.

I must admit…  you are a clever and shrewd opponent.  You got what you wanted by playing two sides.  He ended up caving to your needs before me.  However, I think you’re being played more by him than I by you.  His caving, I believe, is simply manipulation to draw you in.    But, one can never tell, he may have actually changed for the better.  I highly doubt that, though.  Even the little things he has done have led me to believe he has no backbone or strength.  He is and always will be a pussy-bitch (alleged) homosexual fuckwad to me.  And, you are the woman who wants him.  That, to me, is on a level much lower than he.

It’s amazing what two people of such low self-esteem and low self-worth are capable of doing.  Here are some observations –

It seems you two are trying to resurrect a relationship that seemed to have fizzled years ago.  Back when the both of you were two different people.  If my memory serves me correctly, you’re both in different places and are different people than what you were those many years ago.  When you realize who each is now, as opposed to back then, you’ll be reeling with the feeling of idiocy.

You two haven’t tackled the problems that are so hugely apparent.  I find it almost comical that you’re able to ignore the 600 pound pink gorilla dancing on your coffee table in the middle of your living room.  I guess that’s why they say ignorance is bliss.  To you two, it must be a fucking salvation.

Putting your faith in god and the church isn’t going to solve the problems you have inside you.  It’s simply a bandage, held on by lackluster stickytape… the kind that washes off from a light morning sprinkle.  If you would have only followed my and others’ advice and walked away from both of us, maybe you’d be a more grounded and sane individual.  In desperate times, come desperate actions.  And your desperation is off the charts.

I can speak from experience that you have had no forward progress in your state of mental stability.  In fact, I think you’ve moved backwards.  I always told you to continue to seek guidance from your therapist.  Of course, the Welbutrin is working wonders [sarcasm].

Just know this, you would have had what you wanted from me, only if you would have waited and planned and sought the help you needed before moving to that point.  I would have been there for you.  I would have helped you.  I would have compromised and we could have dealt with it together.  I honestly believe we could have been more than happy together.  Not only best friends, but lovers and confidants.  

I can’t say I wish you well.  Chances are, the poles will shift, gravity will cease to exist and the sun will go super-nova before your marriage works out.  But, in the off-chance (and I mean OFF-CHANCE) that does work out, you will end up more miserable and more fucked up than you are now.  And that’s my consolation.  Consider it your indoctrination to hell.  Because that’s probably the next place I’ll see you.

With absolute revulsion,

Me

PS: I’ll be awaiting your call when everything comes crumbling.  I hope you’re prepared for the shit I’m going to give you, if I even take your fucking call.

PPS:  I WANT THE TIFFANY RING AND NECKLACE BACK.  YOU DON’T DESERVE THEM.