Everyone says I shouldn’t write you, or let you know I’m still thinking about the pain that you and my husband caused me. They say it’s what you want....that you’ll feed off of it. And part of me agrees with that. But part of me also thinks “who cares?” I AM still grieving over what you two caused me. I AM still grieving over the fact that you knew about me, about my children, and what I thought was our happy home. I’m still LIVID that my husband invited you into our lives and made infidelity a part of my story. I’m furious that he made you feel that you mattered enough that YOU could message ME and try to hurt me more. As if being half of an affair wasn’t bad enough, you had to give me details. You expressed pity for me. YOU, FEEL SORRY....FOR ME?! Oh honey, please don’t. I’m not 41 years old, living with my parents, barely making ends meet by jobs at convenience stores that I can’t even hold onto. I’m not a grown ass woman going after a married man. Unlike you, I have a successful career, I can spell, I wish no harm on anyone (except you-if Im being honest-I wish you would die a tragic death. I know I shouldn’t...but I do🤷🏻‍♀️) but I certainly wouldn’t go out of my way to make someone feel like shit, especially not someone I was already doing WRONG.

No, I’m not any of those things you are. But I AM broken. And you weren’t alone. My husband holds sole responsibility for this. You owe me nothing. And I’m sure he told you we weren’t happy....but the fact that you had the AUDACITY to message an already broken woman and try to break herMORE, shows more about you than the affair did. You made fun of personal things that I deal with. I know your intent was to make me mad at him. Babe-I didn’t even need your message for that. He pays dearly every day, because he has to deal with the fact that he almost lost his entire family for some white-trash, racist, podunk skank. You think I begged for him to stay? LMAO. Bitch I told him to go. Packed his bags and had them waiting. He slept outside my door every night. Then slept in his car across the road. He knew I’d be gone, with his children, and after a while of crumbling, I’d be just fine-better off probably. And he’d still be stuck with you. I guess that’s why he changed his mind so fast. I’ll never know. What I DO know is that it pisses me off that every skinny ass bitch I see with dark hair makes my stomach drop. And that pisses me the fuck off. But it is what it is. And I probably won’t send it...because I’m not in the best state mentally...and one day maybe I’ll be glad I didn’t.

(But if 10 pizzas that smell like you from their raw fish toppings ever show up at your door ready to be paid for, you’re welcome!)

Ugh. Maybe one day doing this will make me feel better.