2002-10-09 @ 1:15 p.m. | Fury

Song in my head:

Mood:

Current book:


My ex is the most evil, selfish motherfucker I could possibly conceive of.

I want to take out a full page ad in the paper and a billboard screaming out "Louis Esteban Montalvo is a fucking asshole" complete with contact information.

He still has my things. Three months later, he still has them.

Originally, three weeks after I left and I finally had the resources (emotionally) to deal with getting my things out, I made arrangements to get storage, to get a truck to get my things out - he changes the locks so I can't get it.

He insists that he can't have the negative energy of me, or my friends, or my family in his apartment (i.e., his fucking sanctuary, I hope he dies there, I don't really, but part of me, this rageful, vengeful part does). He insists that he'll send my things.

So I finally said, okay, I'll send movers this weekend, I won't be there, my family won't be there, his fucking sanctuary will be untouched (and how fucking DARE HE??? how could he possibly be entitled to a sanctuary when he violated my PERSON my BODY my SOUL and I can't come near his fucking apartment????? FUCK!!!!)

And then he STILL says no, he won't let movers come into his apartment unless his social worker is there, for his own peace of mind and protection, and of course, his social worker doesn't work on weekends! So this weekend will most likely not work.

FUCK HIM!!!! I can't get over his audacity. No remorse, no nothing, just this fucked up power trip.

I hate him beyond words. I hate him because I loved him so truly, and he took my love and shit on it, shit on me, treated me like the shit he is, but I didn't see shit when I saw him.

I want him to hurt. I want him to feel what I'm feeling, this betrayal, this discounting of my humanity. Ultimately, as rageful as I am, I don't really want him to hurt, because I'm not like that deep down. I don't want to inflict pain on anyone.

What I do want is for him to really UNDERSTAND, to really feel what I'm going through - he hasn't a clue.

And he's painting ME as cold-hearted and unfeeling and un-understanding.

Anyone who knows me knows how kind and empathetic I am, how I would never willingly hurt anyone no matter how much I'm fantasizing about it now.

I remember he used to cry his eyes out listening to songs that would remind him of his own alienation, and yet he never cried at my pain.. that should have told me something.

I fantasize about setting him on fire, breaking his teeth, castrating him, making him hurt like he's never hurt before. Yet I won't do it.

He probably didn't fantasize about hurting me, but he did it.

Why can't he see the difference?

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