You know the chances of me getting back with you are as possible as me winning the lottery? If I had to chose to give 3 of my toes and my ability see or married to you, I would choose the life of a handicapped loner. You, my dude, are lazy and unabashedly so. This relationship of ours has had its ups and downs, we started off rocky( I should have understood the signs there, but I had ignored them) you gaslight and blame others for your faults, you don’t even care. I can’t get you to be responsible even if it was to save your life.

Your kids miss you and Its hard to back you when you’re not even taking the initiative to even fix anything. I have to be the one to light the fire under your a**, and I blame your mother for the way you turned out. Hell, they are not even my kids and I still love them enough try to grant them the only thing in life that they could possibly ever want: A stable home. But It wouldn’t be a stable home, with a father whose priorities are fucked up, and his questionable parenting skills. Their mother isn’t that much better and you have the nerve to judge her. (If they say children are supposed to make you grow up, I have yet to see it in you OR her.)

You don’t bathe, and I shouldn’t have to tell you that everytime you let your b/o burn off what little eyelashes that I do have. You SHOULD have dickcheese, because god, inbetween the B/o, dickcheese, and god awful mustard gas morning breath, I should have been dead and rotted by now.

I’ve grown apart from you, not because of the length of time we had together, but because of your inability to do what you need to do. If I wanted to be YOUR mother, I would have wished to have been born sooner. I’m glad that the only thing that kept us together was Your kids and convenience. I’d hate to be that b**** but I’ll take this title for the team.

Hopefully you’ll grow up… Before you hit old age. I hope you do. I really do.