I'm packing and getting ready to move out of my own house. It's fucking weird. For the first time in my life I feel that I have "no place" to go, to live, that is mine. I'm lookig forward to having to live on about 12K a year after paying evrything else to my soon to be ex... I'm such a fucking loser. It's all my fault. My kids are great and my ex is a wonderful woman who's life is just starting. She'll make someone feel very lucky some day.
I hope that heart attack I've always thought I'd have comes sooner than later. Just my luck though, it won't kill me.
I hope that heart attack I've always thought I'd have comes sooner than later. Just my luck though, it won't kill me.
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I see what our family could be now, and I see our children hurting and I get angry, that's all. I'm sorry that that sometimes comes out in a way that makes you feel guilty. You need this time, I need this time. It's ok.
You are not responsible for my happiness.
And no amount of life insurance would make me happy that you were dead.
[Edited on Sep 24, 2004 10:36AM]