On top of old smoky, all covered in jizz.
There is one thing left nagging me about Roger’s abrupt departure.
He never said I’m sorry.
What does that mean? Does that mean he lacks integrity? Compassion? Empathy?
Yes. It sure as shit does. It also means he isn’t programmed to give a fuck.
One quick Google search of his name brought up his wife’s sister’s obituary, with his name clearly listed as “spouse” alongside hers. Said sister was a nice lady that his wife continually bullied, and I don’t know why Karma didn’t kill HER bitch ass instead.
An additional search on Facebook ‘marketplace’ confirmed that Icky Vickie is still in his rental unit; meanwhile, he’s joining classic car forums at his old address. It’s almost laughable. Like the fucker never missed a beat and I’m just a messy mistake from his sordid past.
Looks like I was the only one that actually GOT OUT of the situation, and that’s only because he never involved me in it, never introduced me to any of the people he hung out with. Maybe that was to safeguard me, and maybe discarding me was his way of doing that.
In less than five minutes, I learned from the internet ALL I need to know in order to understand why he hasn’t said I’m sorry.
Because nothing’s changed.
As a matter of fact, he’s gone BACK to the very wife that made him miserable for the past 30 years and he either did it cuz that old bitch finally opened her legs up and gave him a glimpse of that dried up old pussy, or he can’t make it on his own without her. She actually told me, and I quote, “I got him off crack and I’ll get him off meth too. Don’t worry about him, just leave US alone.” And this was after he forced ME to call her and appease her rage, give her someone to punch besides him.
I can only pray he thought enough of me to never give my identity up to her OR the beast of a woman he put his dick in next.
Oh, and speaking of the beast… if I’M out of the throuple, that makes HER the adored other woman, which makes sense because she’s still in Peter Peter Pussy Eater’s pumpkin shell with a sky view. So, she replaced me, only she’s the cheaper model. Bet she breaks down sooner, too.
Lmao, I’m such a bitch.
Anyways, how do you love someone for 15 years and ERASE them overnight??
And then how do you just pick up with your life as you knew it before active drug addiction and decide that your lover of 15 years is the ONLY one you DON’T bother making amends to?
Roger made me reevaluate every single thing I thought I knew about love and sex. He has made me question every man’s intentions. He tried to make me doubt that someone could love me how I deserved to be loved, and he did that by disrespecting me the way he did.
Here’s a true story:
He used to travel about an hour to see me each weekend and spend the night with me. Once, he actually suggested that we stop staying together at the hotel and rent the 4 hour rooms at the sex club, where the only bed has stirrups and is contained in a room with an open window for you to be spied on by any curious voyeur willing to pop for the price of admission.
That’s what he thought of me.
Of course, my heart was wounded deeply and I cried.
And he could not understand why it hurt me. I should have fled then and there and never looked back. I could have saved myself a lot of heartache.
Another true story:
The other night, Jon carried me piggy back from the truck to the house so I would not get my new cowboy boots wet and muddy. And he did it without me asking. That’s the best part.
I would be a fool not to notice the vast difference between the two men that I’ve now loved.
One wanted to save a buck on motels by cutting his visit by 12 hours and sleeping with me on a cum covered pleather “bed” while the other doesn’t want me to step in the water or soil my footwear because he thinks I’m a literal fucking princess.
And I think I’ll end storytime right here.
But come to think of it, Roger could use a little time out in the rain.
Becuz only mother nature can wash that dirty fucker clean.
The rest of us ain’t woman enough.