You’re sick. You’re sick in the head and I can see it. I see it and it makes me sick. Writing this now makes me feel like I need to hurl, but I refuse to hurl over you. You’re not worth this Ode. You’re not worth the bars on your cell. You’re not worth the shit on the floor. I hope you’re enjoying those sexual favors you’re giving and receiving. You deserve a good ass rape. It takes a punk little boy with daddy issues to have to knock around women to feel powerful. To feel in control. You have no control. That’s why you do what you do. You manipulate. You’re a user. You abuse and mistreat.
Alice doesn’t deserve the treatment you will give her when it is time you deem she take it. But let me say that Alice is no better. She’s better than you, but she’s no better than the choices she makes and the choice she had made is seeing you. Seeing you even though I have shown her all the truths. All the truths you masked, but unmasked with your name — have you not heard of Google or County Criminal/Court Records. The evidence really of what I picked up the moment I heard her talking with you. The moment I laid my eyes on you. The moment you looked at me from the couch and I saw. I saw in your eyes all I needed to see and I dug in my heels and my view of you didn’t budge. I knew you were wicked. Your eyes validated you were demented. Your demeanor and temper just bubbling beneath. What I didn’t know then, but found soon after is that you knew before you met me that I had no use for you. I knew you were bad news before I knew what you looked like. Alice even told you before we were ever in person, that I had dubbed you. I dubbed you Dipshidiot. I wasn’t intimidated and that you could see so the next time we met you had to change your tactics.
You weaved the webs of the same shit deceit that Alice had empathized and ate up so quick. Apparently one day on your birthday you came home early from a job you had in the Bahamas. Only to find your wife in bed with your best friend whom was the best man in your wedding. Boo-hoo. You lost everything; your boat, your house, and your kid. Your reaction was quick as you beat your best friend to an inch of his life and had to pay well over $63,000 in medical bills. Well I am not Alice, I have smarts, you beat anyone like that and Prison is where you end up. Do you find me dumb that
when you tell me if you could do it over you would have killed them both, and say this with such malice then only moments later ask me why women go back to the men who abuse, I would not pick up that you are a scumbag douche? There was no best friend or affair or such, just the fact you beat your wife and ended up with a restraining order 2 days before you met Alice.
But it’s OK because I relinquish Alice since she’s a grown woman and has the right to choose you over her kids. You win, aren’t you happy? You have a new punching bag that will cower to you now. Just in time for Christmas! I’m washing my hands of this.
Goodbye, Alice (Photo credit: Danny PiG)
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You can’t own the problem, especially when it’s going to eat you alive. Sometimes you just have to do your best, and then walk away and let the other person deal with their decisions. It sucks though, doesn’t it? Feels like crap. But it’s the right thing to do.