Misery, doesn’t love company… that’s a blatant lie that nobody tells you about before it’s too late !

We spent years bonding, and each moment we spent together, was unveiling & telling as we learnt the incantations that were scribed upon one another hearts, and our souls coalesced, whilst bonding deeply.

I used to be full of hope & faith, and a part of me still gazes upon people with innocent eyes, until someone proves me otherwise; and usually, it’s only a matter of time. It happens, and that’s just the way life flows.

I mean, how could he have known that I never ever stay friends with my ex’s, not even one of them, particularly when we were secure in our relationship. Because, no one plans to spend the rest of their life with someone, unless you can’t bare the thought of living without the said person.

Makes me wonder how on earth I fell for all his bullshit but then again, I was always told that you don’t fall in love, and when you do, it’s the fall that breaks you as opposed to true love, which enables you to walk into love knowing exactly what you both want from each other, and the bond.

I wouldn’t have ever known about his true nature and string of infidelities if his intended best man didn’t disclose such, and I guess his best man wasn’t truly his wing man, after all.

Luckily, I became close friends with his wife, and oft babysat their only child when they needed time out to decompress & stoke the inner fire of one another once a month, for an entire weekend.

He wasn’t aware that I was a runner, and sometimes, we’d run together and post getting hot & sweaty, share long hot showers that oft ended with him sitting on the tiles whilst I straddled him post being jammed up against the wall until we both lost our grip, and the water threatened our fire as we slid all over one another.

We learnt the hard way once, whilst slipping & incurring an injuring, and we laughed about that moment for years, avoiding the same situation whilst still baring the fractures.    
     
I almost married that man, until I learnt of his true ways, and that was the only time he reached into my hellfire, particularly as he was possessive & followed my every move as if I couldn’t be trusted, and in the end, he compelled me to lose all hope.

In a way, so many others remind me of him, they lie & cheat and leave a bad taste in my mouth, particularly when they show up unannounced and keep tabs on me as if I’m a dog on a leash, all because they can’t trust themselves let alone someone else.      
     
To be honest, what he did to me hurt but what I did to him must’ve drove him a smidgen crazzzy, and I’m tempted to do the same to others but I’m a little older & wiser these days, knowing it’s best just to go my own way.      
     
No need to explain any further as I won’t even bother wasting my breath, trying to work shit out. No good comes from lies, and that’s the bottom line.

Post confronting him with his brand of bullshit, I asked for the key he had to my place and I gave his key to his place back to him before I set off to work that morning.

I hate watching a man cry as it triggers me to cry too but I remained stoic because I wasn’t going to settle as turning a blind eye would’ve set a precedent. One, which I wasn’t willing to      
take on board, by turning a blind eye.

He sent me long stemmed flowers every few hours throughout the day with cryptic written notes, in an attempt to trigger the memories of times that we spent bonding, all intimate moments that we clung to as they brought us closer to one another, over the years.

Later that evening, I leased an apartment with floor to ceiling windows right across the street on the same level as his penthouse, given he had a proclivity to watch people late at night through his telescope through their windows, and that was the perfect opportunity to sever the bond, completely.

I know my worth, and I’m definitely not one to return to my own vomit, like a dog does.

It took me several hours to prepare myself and carry the dress we were intending to tie the knot in, and all those flowers he sent me from dial-a-flower over the past 12 hours, slightly triggered my hay fever.

I hired a male escort that was some 10 years younger than us, and still donning a six pack whilst entirely chiseled in all the right places.

The epitome of tall, dark & handsome.

I wasn’t entirely sure how I was going to accomodate his cock as he was definitely close to nine inches, and much thicker than I’d ever gripped before but I was willing to make him watch as that was the one thing he was insecure about, me fucking another man behind his back whilst we were together.

The escort and I sat and waited for him to arrive home whilst drinking and smoking a blunt, and he hugged me during the times I cried and in the end, I didn’t even know why I was crying over such a selfish piece of shit that wasn’t even worth  my time, and all those years of nourishing him.

And like clockwork, when he arrived home, the lights were soon blazing whilst he removed his clothes in the living room, with a beer in one hand and TV remote in the other with him flicking between ESPN & MTV streaming on the big screen.      
     
I waited for him to turn off his lights, and position himself behind the telescope before I hit the lights on my end, and let the male escort go to town on me amongst all the long stem flowers he bought me were scattered all over the pristine while tiles.

He ripped that dress off of me, and fucked me senseless for the next 25 mins before we noticed my soon to be husband, who flipped to ex in a 24 hour period, had left his apartment and we heard him raging in the corridor whilst trying to FaceTime me.

I spent the rest of the night with the hooker boy, and we fucked til dawn without charging me, and we’re still friends and catch up from time to time whilst laughing about all the fuck ups we’ve encountered.

Evidently, I’m not like those other stupid leechy bitches who’re willing to latch onto men, and swallow the bullshit of those who couldn’t care less for them, whilst trashing their self respect by being disrespectful.

Hmm. Men with money are arseholes, and women with money know how to look after themselves, and don’t particularly whore themselves to said arseholes who’re willing to lie & cheat, whilst exposing their partner to diseases from fucking everything else that walks, without any protection.

So. How do you like me know is all I managed to utter when he called me around midday the next day, wanting his rings and other things back !?    
     
He cried, and in that moment, I found closure.    
     
I sold those rings & burnt the dress whilst streaming live like a crazzzy bitch, right before I went on a wild vacation in another country where I fucked several different men, during a 2 week coke bender at a music festival.    
     
The rest is history !

He hates me with a passion but fails to accept his own behaviour, and that’s what separates a boy, from the gentlemen.

Evidently, I dodged a lifetime of misery with that one because misery loves company, and I’ve learnt that a relationship isn’t capable of holding more than one miserable sod, at any given time.  
 
https://youtu.be/qniEbNzBT20