I know that you fucked Matt at the Nanaimo shop, Garden, and this house.

When I messaged Jacquie that time a few months back, you cheated on me afterwards. Like I deserved to be punished for failing to cheat on you while you were actively cheating on me. CHEATING. IN AN OPEN RELATIONSHIP. What a f****** joke (I’ve allowed myself, and the life I live, to be).

Your hands and/or t*** tied to the anchor above in the living room.. The threat, or reality, of exposing you as an untrustworthy, selfish, cheating s*** made you wetter… Just a pull of a chord and anyone would have had an oppportunity to see. ANYONE could walk by – the world is a complicated and tangled place and anyone could be anywhere, right?
Anyone, of course, but me.

Because you’re never unsure of where I am, what I’m doing, or when I’m getting close to home…

I could no longer choose to trust you when logic, paranoia, pain, and my gut were agreeing to tell me otherwise. I could be convinced that I’m paranoid and that my fears from the past may influence how I perceive everything around me… But the disrespectfully blatant messages you leave one another, the games you love to play, how easily you can usher me out the door and lock the idea of me away (except the anxiety part – knowing you can’t be caught). So your abusive, lying, diseased, selfish, disgusting ex gets to be anticipation, promises, high highs and low lows, creativity and discovery, freedom, relaxation, laughter… I get to be a worry.

Feels like you only worry because you could lose the bills being paid, gifts, the work horse, scape goat, fall guy, and lowest acceptable standards for a bf to calm your parents. It feels that way because the deception, blatant lies, and the chore and pain I’m made aware that I am undermines any positive sincerity towards me… Are you really madly in love with me today? Do you actually appreciate how f****** awesome a person and bf I am? Are you actually h**** for or because of me or am I just a decent c*** of convenience in need of appeasing. Maintenance. A chore.

Jacquie t*** s** f*** c*** Jenny dumb b**** choke on stay the f*** tied exposed face a** now bounce c*** don’t move or my blade swallow like a good girl bruises laugh.
(Just tossed a keyword or twl in there so I’m sure you’re with me
Don’t want this one to slip by.)

Here’s my confession. Darren took my phone to the island and texted on my behalf. I met with him 36 hrs later after skulking around like a f****** pathetic loser here at home.

I’ve been waiting for you to confess. Redeem yourself… Show me you’re capable of honesty and guilt and loyalty (to me). Were i to have done this, you’d just be caught and have to work out of that situation… Coming clean on your own accord takes grit.

F*** you for lying to me and for always always cheating and trying to talk me into doubting myself.

I don’t hate you because of all this. I hate me.