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ThoughtsOnKillingABitch

I will not try to make decisions about right or wrong for another adult. Even if I have all the pertinent information, there's no way for me as an observing party to have the proper  state of mind to determine what someone else should or should not do.
Now, back to KillingABitch!
I don't think it's the right thing to do. But I do understand the logic. If I were to find out that the child I have been raising under the belief that it is indeed my flesh and blood, actually is not; I would be pissed! I mean thoroughly, fully, and completely.  No combination of letters, phrases, or cliches that I know could express the wide array of emotions I believe I would experience, or the full depth of each of them. And my vast number of valid reasons would be varied.
Thinking back on all the pussy I'd passed up because I chose to work in order to buy clothes and food for a child not my own would anger me to a degree that I cannot put into words. Remembering every single time that I chose not to buy a shirt, a CD, some boots, a new rod, a TV, or a just-cause-I-felt-like-it steak dinner; but instead spent the money on my, I mean "that" child would drive me into a rage of such intensity that I would cry and I'd shake. Just like everyone else, I know that sacrifices are made by parents in the best interest of a child. This I accept. They occur without fanfare and are often second nature, if not automatic and instinctual.
There are no words to voice the pain that I believe would grow hot in my soul as I realized that each and every sacrifice I had made was a waste of time, effort, and intention made by a misguided man under the treacherous false pretenses of a woman who should no longer be allowed to remain a member of society.
The bitter tears running down my face would carry traces of the money I will never get back; the stories I've read at bedtime; the "boo-boos" I've bandaged and kissed; the energy I've given playing horsey and freeze tag; and the knowledge and wisdom I've imparted to a child not my own.
The money can be regained. The time is lost forever. Yet there is an even greater tragedy in all this.
Those hot, bitter tears will be full of love. A man cannot raise a child and not love the child. There will be regret for the uncertainty that now overshadows the connection that was formed.
There will be questions and hurt in those tears; the ones on my face and the ones in my heart.
I could have been elsewhere. Could have done any of a million other things and kept my heart to myself. I can't simply shake off how happy I was to see this woman care for "my" child as it grew, inside her and claimed its own place in my heart. But, the baby, and the child it has now grown into, ain't mine. How could this happen? What do I do now? I have two choices. Stay or leave.
What do I do about this girl? She's hurt me so bad I wish her dead. But will that actually fix my problem. I'm in so much pain I wish death for myself. She played me and played with me. She took from me, intentionally, things that can never be regained. That is one thing that hurts more than most. Do I kill her? I don't know. That is one choice to consider. Another is to walk away, hope to heal, and begin anew somewhere else.
It's a bad situation. I've never been there. I hope like Hell that God never lets me travel that road. I don't know what I'd do.
Hell, I've never put my hands on a woman of mine with the intent to injure or intimidate her. I have thought about it, more than once. Just never went there, so I really don't have a reference point for the threshold of physical expressions of anger and pain.
I know there is pain. I know there are choices. You can put your hands on her. Also, you can turn and walk away. But, as I said earlier, I've never been there. Thank You, God! So I can only give my ThoughtsOnKillingABitch.
In my head, I know it ain't the right thing to do. But I am a man and a father, so in my gut, I do understand the logic.
Written by FATBOY300PLUS
Published
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