Those months were separated by several years where you escaped my mind and were not even thought of.
During our months together I was subjected to your temper tantrums and an occasional slap or two.
During that time you cheated on me left and right with the ugliest girls walking the streets, except for the one, Krissy, who was actually a bipolar lost soul. She remains a bipolar lost soul.
You blame the world and everyone else for your problems.
You cheat the government monthly, living on the social security and other waste of time government tit programs like section 8, welfare, food stamps and medicaid. The government knows about this, you have been reported numerous times but I get harrassed by Social Security asking ME where I spent the three checks I did cash prior to learning of your fraud.
You lie. Every word that comes out of your mouth is made up, exaggerated and cannot be trusted.
You make excuses for the way you are, mommy's fault or daddy's fault or the sister dieing. Granted all of this plays into who you are, but everyone gets tired of hearing about it. Move on.
You hate the family members that don't trust you, you have used or won't fall for your BS.
You are a raging hypochondriac, every small problem turns into a doctor visit.
You have a weird and deranged laugh.
You smell. Whatever fragrance you squirt on yourself, you smell. Offensive.
You have children with every girl you sleep with.
You are obese. Your belly hangs over your sagging denim shorts that need pulling up. Wife beaters are made for dudes with muscles, not pot belly pigs. It's also not the 80's anymore.
You are father of the year because you are raising one of your children. Been there, still doing that. Advice, ass hole... fuck you. Figure it out on your own the way I fucking did. PS...your child is NOT supposed to smack you in your face. Hi five to her actually, but that ass needs warming on a serious tip.
There is always an ulterior motive to everything you do. For instance, you're talking to me as if I am interested. Ask you for your address, it's a big ass secret. Ask you for what you do all day, where you go, who you hang with, it's a big ass secret.
As for having my son hang with you and the child you are going to epic fail raising, that's a no-go. Hanging with grandma, f that bitch and her 9 decades of inhling and exhaling. I tried that. She doesn't give a fuck. My child has not set foot out of my home in 11 years + with you. Why should he start now? Your daddy days with my first born will start when he's 18, when and if he wants to. You do nothing but hurt and use people.
Having a birthday party for 'leck', great! Two faced motherfucker. WHat about the bithdays my kid spent without a card or a gift? The Christmases. Asshat.
You want to settle down. Nice. Do you think I have been sitting here on my fat white tushie waiting for that to happen? I have been battling my urges and need for you til you can settle the fuck down. And where do you even get off thinking that? You decide 11 years after the fact that our 'love' is worth fighting for? Dip-shit, you are delusional in addition to strange. Remember the notes I used to write? Of course, I do. I still have them. It's called a fucking journal. I still occasionally jot down a note or two, especially if I am stressed. If I am going nuts.
I have not spent the last decade trying to keep myself and the Rican together just to keep myself busy waiting for you. My Rican...I love that ass hole motherfucker with all the fucking breath I have in me. Not only is he sexy as hell , his personality is quirky and weird. We have a great sense of humor. When me and the Rican hate, we hate with a passion. When me and the Rican love, we were meant to be together. There is a fine line between love and hate and me and Papi dance the freaking Samba on it. You, I loathe you. Not for what went on between us but for failing as a dad and as a father. The Rican has a lot stacked against him and his negatives are numerous to name, but he's a constant and involved dad who would die for my children, and that includes the one that you call 'buddy and son' because biology provided you that.
You repulse me.
Jill
8/2/12
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