It’s difficult because as I type this I’m cleaning up my space. The little corner in the laundry where I’ve typed papers. And as I was busting my ass trying to go to school, trying to figure out what I could do to ease M’s burden of being sole provider. I remember typing my first 10 page paper and complaining I couldn’t get it done to M’s AP. She came over took my baby girls at the time and I finished it.
I wonder if she felt sorry for me that her boyfriend my absentee husband didn’t really care.
So I move on and then I find a tiny silver case of letters. When he was in Iraq for all of 16 months I tried to send him letters alot and there were like 1/2 of them in this container. I look at them and I just go put the dumb box in his room. The room I hate. The room I wish I could burn down. The room where I put all of his pictures any picture with him in it.. I put in there. So if he were to die or leave I wouldn’t have to deal with erasing him out of my photo albums. and just keep a few for the kids. The room he used for hours while I let him do his homework to talk with his AP behind my back.. Fuck him..
And I think stupid girl..
I worry that by me saying that all of you BS’s, you beautiful souls that have this terrible mark on your hearts as well will think I’m calling you stupid, but I swear right now I feel that way.
Stupid girl all your love on this fool..
I look at my high school pictures and think oh you sweet girl you will fall for this horrid man and cry..
You will have four precious babies with him and want to die..
Oh you sweet Stupid girl..