repost two
I use the word 'dear' in its financial sense, as for the ten years we were together you contributed about as much to our joint wages as a dripping tap does to the Atlantic.
Moving in with me is not a way of escaping from the parental home. Yes, your dad was an asshole but he did care for you in his own way.
And hiding my mail (this was pre computers) because I had several female pen-pals is not a way to make better of you when I find out.
Providing sex on tap does not excuse you still being in bed mid afternoon when I've been up since 4am, walked two miles to Brighton Station, done a full shift at Victoria Station, travelled home, and then being greeted with "What are you going to cook for me?"
When we've discussed the fact that we haven't even had a false alarm, and you claim the hospital has given your reproductive system the okay, I don't expect to get a phone call at work asking if you can screw one of our friends (who's fathered kids) just because my first test result has come back negative. And when the second says "Wow, you've got so many of the little swimmers its great" I expect you to go back to the hospital for tests, not start screwing someone else.
White chocolate still contains sugar, saying it doesn't is the reason your diabetes got worse.
If I ask for a Stephen King book for my birthday, I don't expect on the day to be told that my treat is to video you and your new boyfriend screwing. And when I laugh as he cums after 30 seconds, I think that's poetic justice.
When we both knew it was over, and you're planning on your boyfriend moving in, I don't expect you to act like a petulant child if I'm talking on the phone to a platonic friend who's offered to let me move in with her.
And five years after we've split up, when you've had a four year lesbian affair when men were anathema to you and then gone straight into a heterosexual relationship, I don't expect you to ring me 20 times a day (just letting it ring once so I think I've missed your call) especially if I do answer it and say I'm busy or at work.
I don't miss you, the sex life you said would never be so good IS BETTER, even your relatives can't stand you, God I'm so glad you're out of my life.
Be warm, safe, and happy, but nowhere near me.
Paof2
(paof2 Nude might not be rude, but rude could be nude..., Thu 11 Aug 2011, 9:51, Reply)