Open diary, open arms

Open Diary… you are like an old friend that doesn’t judge…one who only listens and offers comfort. You are privy to the things I’m too embarrassed or afraid to tell a real human being.

 

But I guess I’m not done talking. And the beauty of that is you can’t tell me to STFU.

 

I now think Vickie’s reason for texting is clear.

 

She told me Roger is going to clean himself up for me… and after lots of research, I know that’s easier said than done.

 

She said that to hurt me. To break my heart again and that’s why I didn’t react, because it was such a low blow and such a cruel thing to say.

 

She wants me to hope and pray for him to get better and he most likely never even hinted at recovery.

 

She wants me to have hope.

 

The false kind.

 

So she can delight from afar knowing I will be disappointed when he’s still sick and suffering and I will feel like I was once again not worth enough to him to get sober.

 

That and the breathing thing.

 

She said both those things knowing full well I love the man and worry every day I won’t ever see him alive again,so she’s capitalizing on my pain.

 

And she says she’s not gonna hurt me.

 

And she says she doesn’t lie.

 

And she says she is going to leave him when she knows she isn’t.

 

And she tells me to come get him cuz she’s done with him. Like he is a used car that’s nickel and diming her to death.

 

ALL those things are designed to hurt me. So that makes HER a liar. Not me.

 

And she thinks she’s smarter than me, that’s evident. She tries to catch me in a lie and plays on my sympathy by playing the martyr and when that fails to elicit a response, she tries to manipulate me into bashing him so she can use it to hurt him later .

 

And she has the audacity to call ME names.

 

The rules don’t seem to apply to her. She will call anyone she wants, anytime she wants, threaten anyone she wants, and do as she damn well pleases to others because she feels shit on by the world.

 

I could tell all that from one text.

 

But I’M the problem.

 

Ok yeah, all that makes perfect sense.

 

I think I better ditch my old friend open diary or go privado cuz she’s HOT on the trail now, as she knows I have a diary somewhere on the world wide web and if she’s successful in finding it then she can use it to keep me in line. Expose me, as she once threatened earlier in our “friendship”, lmao.

 

She says Roger reads my diary but I know that is also a lie, because she asked me if it was on Reddit or Quora. She was trying to trick me into giving her information. She must think I fell off a fucking turnip truck… nah, she thinks she can manipulate and outsmart me.

 

I told her she can text me anytime she wants to, and she assured me that her and Roger’s argument had nothing to do with me, but yet she is calling and texting ME when she’s fighting with HER lover.

 

My 19 year old kid is sleeping in my bed tonight. She’s home from college on fall break and doesn’t feel good cuz she has her period. She wants comfort.

 

And guess why my adult child is in my bed tonight? Because I’m a good person who shows love and affection, not some bitch you have made me out to be in your mind.

 

Don’t use my feelings for Roger to hurt me deep in my heart.

 

Have some fucking compassion, will you?

 

You may not think I suffered enough for whatever it is I did to you, but I guarantee you are wrong.

 

Here’s how I have suffered, just so we are straight on this…

 

My lover took his phone into the party store with him to buy my tea, and I lost my shit. Automatic assumption that it was so I wouldn’t see a text or call he was hiding, when in reality he is on call for his business and can’t miss a call.

 

Once he brought me a contact lens wrapper or blister pack he found on the floor of a place he literally just bought from other people and asked me if it was an ant poison button. I freaked out and accused him of having someone that wore contacts in the bed before me.

 

And here’s the worst one..

 

After spending the night together, we would make the bed in unison, and I would booby trap it on my side by tucking the sheets into the bottom… real tight.

 

I knew we weren’t coming back to that particular house until we came back together and trust me when I say I held my breath every time I lifted that sheet up on my side for six fucking months.

 

I was just WAITING for him to betray me.

 

I trusted NOBODY. And I held him at arm’s length, both sexually and emotionally.

 

Instead of getting angry, each time he patiently reassured me that I was going to learn as time went on that I CAN trust again and that I AM worthy of someone’s fidelity and that I DON’T have to be a sexual circus performer to keep him from fucking around.

 

And then he just hugs me and says it’s ok and not to feel afraid, he won’t hurt me or betray me.

 

I wish I loved him as much as he loves me.

 

His conditions are very serious.

 

He expects me to marry him and he asks me every day if I’m ready for him to take care of me for the rest of my life.

 

And all it will cost me IS the REST of my life. I don’t think I am even close to ready to do that for a few reasons. I like things how they are. I am not used to a man actually wanting me. My husband treated me like a child or a burden and Roger never wanted me for a real partner. He acted like my pussy was the broken reactor on three mile island and it’s weird to go from a man that thinks getting me pregnant is a death sentence (so he never fucked me), to a man that says his biggest regret is not having more than one child and he wishes I could give them to him.

 

I don’t want to be dependent on anyone.

 

I just want him to keep treating me like a princess, no strings attached. I just want him to keep proving himself so I can finally really believe him.

 

I don’t need a castle.

 

Or a fortress to lock myself away to hide from the world. I don’t need to be catered to or given things or fed with a silver spoon to be happy.

 

I just need someone I can believe in.