I buried the separation agreement in 4 months. Penny Cheater signed on our 15th wedding anniversary – coz he is dumb – although we had been together for 22 years. It was a generous gift. I could have divorced him if he signed a letter admitting to adultery, which I know he would have, but it would have impacted on my benefits. So I opted for separation.
He left in May. It’s all I did that summer while he partied, went golfing and shagged – FYI – he sucked in bed!!! Not my problem anymore – looking for an image that is really tiny here! Guilt was in the air – move fast everyone – it pays to move fast! It’s in your favour. Get the dollars you really want while mega guilt burns their ass! Work it.
Then I prepared our family home for sale. 5 bedroom house of memories that became hell. Fuck Penny Cheater!! While he golfed, dropped parenting and went on honeymoon, I boxed, cleared out crap, cried, hated, drank!
2nd year – put house on market and looked for a new one for me and the boys. Sold & purchased by August that year. That fall, I crashed with exhaustion never opening up half of the boxes when I got in the new house. I was spent.
2015 brought a “no mans land” kind of peace. A void of “what do I care about anymore?” 3rd year started with not much until I was invited to Cuba in March and my mother said I had to go and crack my rut. Was I in a rut? I did not even notice.
I went, despite my protests and never wanting to ever go to Cuba. And from that trip, I woke up.
Penny Cheater robbed me of two years of my life. Yeah, yeah, you can say or the counselors would preach that was “my choice“, or “I was responsible for my actions“. They may be right. But fuck that crap. I sat in a chair. It was all I could do. I watched TV, well I think it was on. I texted Penny Cheater crap, bollocks, fucked up shit, anything I could think of to stay connected to him, our past, my past, a 22 year past, anything past. I texted his number to make him listen. Hear my cries for help. He was the only one I turned to for help for 22 years. A habit very hard to break. And I needed him then. But the only thing he could hear was his new Cunt. I received the rare useless replies.
Ya gotta go through what you have to go through. Stop fighting it and let it drip. An intravenous drip of self-inflicted venom. And once the bag has drained, you actually actively look for the another similar bag of fucked up Penny Cheaters memory lane bullshit again and stuff it back down your throat coz you want it and have no idea how to stop it . It becomes enjoyably masochistic because it is ALL you can think about. Its consuming despite whats on the telly. You repeat the performance of a fucked up selfish asshole over and over again. Pissed me off but I could not stop it. Rewind. Play. Rewind. Play. Two years of the same fucked up show on repeat. Its ok. Its normal. I know that now. Took me two years to get bored with the repeats, find the remote control and change my channel to a new episode called “its my life“.
There were days of anger and hatred I am not proud of. Hatred chew’s your soul, your essence, it has a way of keeping you in the bottle. It was a new emotion for me. An emotion I never had to control before. It was loaded with a physicality and mental torment on repeat. With a few select friends, we had a “Revenge Party“. In my self-made dungeon, this was nothing but a healthy way to release the new thoughts I was unaccustomed too.
Choose very close friends. Not the ones who say “I’m sorry” – I ended up avoiding these people, recommended – but the ones that say “Get off yer frigging arse!”. Bring them over for the evening. Crack open a glass or two. And brainstorm. Let it rip! We talked about all the things I wanted to do to Penny Cheater and his Cunt. Here are some of the highlights:
Paint their windows on the ground floor black so they could not see the light
After a Crime Stoppers report, call in and say “I know who did it“
Take a picture of your Penny Cheater, a baseball bat and a pillow. Place the picture on the pillow and bash the fucking shit out of it until you sweat and the feathers fly – might as well have a work out while you are there as you will need that new body of yours to get through the months of recovery. Additionally, the physical release feels good and you may get your first nights sleep. These counselors are definitely necessary, but there is a place for just letting it rip against all the rules, but within the confines of restraint. My screaming need to destroy stuff needed an outlet. I was Godzilla looking for plastic military vehicles to crush with my bare feet! Albeit, Penny Cheaters head would have been preferable.
Sign up the Cunt for a free ad and write “Are you married? Do you have children? I am skilled at assisting you to cheat on your loved ones and break up families without giving a fucking shit. For a fucked up good time guaranteed, text 555.555.5555″
I felt better. Counselors are necessary, but the anti-counselor method in a safe controlled environment is for some, necessary – it was for me. This was not the only get together I had. When it builds up again – repeat all of the above.
What do you want to do to your Penny Cheater that is fucked up, goes against all the “right things” they tell you to do, but you can’t stop thinking about doing it. Storm it out right here. I am listening.
I should swiftly add, that at least I am not paying for this divorce AND Penny Cheater clearly will be paying his lawyer for all his made up legal attempts to contact me and serve me these divorce papers. They even went to court to get permission to mail me the divorce papers. All because Penny Cheater did not have the common decency to tell me. Again.
I came home from work last Thursday and there was an envelope from a lawyer in the post box. Penny Cheater has served me with divorce papers. Despite a letter inside from his lawyer saying he had left 5 messages, his business card and has been to my home to serve me the papers, I have heard NOTHING! Zero. Nada from Penny Cheater or his very rude lawyer.
After another major blowout with this Penny Cheater for surprising me AGAIN for not having the balls to say “Hey, I am filing for divorce” or “Hey, my lawyer is trying to contact you” etc, he did not have the common decency to TELL ME. Fucking coward. Hey Penny Cheater, have you noticed I DON’T DO SURPRISES!!! He was a coward while he cheated on me, he is a coward in divorce. Why? Using Penny Cheaters words “he did not want to hurt me“. Trust me NO ONE on this planet has EVER or will EVER again hurt me to my core like this nasty man has. If his mother only knew.
None the less, I cannot help but feel sad. I am sad that Penny Cheater chose to continue to not show a breath of kindness and consideration since this started in some attempt to find peace between us for his children. May his selfishness chew his soul and fuck her up. I guess gullible me expected something more given our journey ahead with our children. But hey, why would Penny Cheater start that now, or ever for that matter?
But in my silence, I admit that I am sad to close the door on once was my best friend.
In many splits with a Penny Cheater, you are asked repeatedly “would you take them back“? A scary question when you are vulnerable, overwhelmed with now 100% of the parental duties and maintaining a home, the loneliness, the empty bed for the first time in many many years. What would you do?
I worried about this subject when the texts came through 3 months after I kicked him out. “You are beautiful“, “I still think of you every day” – I turned to my new confidante – the internet. I researched how to behave and what was the best approach. The gurus said, be polite, be strong, be diplomatic.
Are you fucking kidding me? I decided that the for me the gurus were wrong. I recognized the pain. the extreme loneliness, the silence, the loss of my best friend, partner, the closest human in my life. Based on Penny Cheaters negligence I decided that in my vulnerable state I did not wish to be presented with the choice of taking him back. EVER. So I read the gurus recommendations and decided to do the complete opposite. I looked needy, desperate, stopped the grooming, got drunk when Penny Cheater was coming over to see the kids. I did everything against all internet advice. I made sure that there would be no way of any return from this Penny Cheater. His side of the bed was cold. And that’s the way it was going to stay. I did not want to choose. I was not going back. I did not wish to set myself up to be hurt again. Once bitten once ridden.
As so many before me in this situation, I turned for “the right” thing to do in absence of loosing my life guide and confidante of the past 22 years. Researched, web browsed, booked counseling and selected the scenarios that would solve the endless problems at a time when I, in my new state of “alone” just could not. Baby steps forward, falling, crying, pulling oneself up again and taking another small step forward.
But in this process, everywhere I looked, repeatedly, the gurus on this subject kept telling me this experience would make me stronger. Oh how fucking bored of these words am I. I already knew how to walk! There is nothing I needed less than to be stronger than I already was prior to Penny Cheaters evil deeds! This phrase “makes you stronger” became annoying. Patronizing. Pissed me off. It underestimated me. Catch all phrase for people who didn’t know what else to say.
It implies that I needed to be stronger for some reason. What the fuck for? Do these same gurus tell those that are not strong to go out and get someone to cheat on them to make them stronger? Is this really a possible remedy?
I was and am already a strong person. I do not need imposed strength. I did not need or choose this workout! And what the gurus never do is answer what the hell I am now suppose to do with this apparent strength I have now gained. Help me leap tall buildings in a single bound? Run faster than a speeding bullet? I think the situation by default already has me doing these things.
If I needed this experience in my life because for some reason I needed to be “stronger” well trust me, I was quite content being a weak mild manner reporter. No phone box necessary. Or was I?