I hate the holidays.
Halloween has always been my favorite holiday, but beyond that, there are NO holidays I enjoy. Not my birthday, mother’s day, fourth of July, Christmas, Thanksgi…. you get the point. The thing is, the indifference has changed into hatred of Thanksgiving and Christmas. My husband celebrated Thanksgiving with his whore a week early while I was at a wedding. The year that I was going to be be cooking at home, for the first time in 6+ years. So… there’s the fun thought of him celebrating and loving all over his slut while I was trudging 3 kids on a 4 hour each way trip, to see my cousin get married. Then, acting like he actually enjoyed the meal I made…and ate that meal with my parents. And of course, who can forget that he wrote her a freaking BOOK for her Christmas present. She was his MUSE after all! He loved her and all she was to and for him. He never wrote me a book, he wrote me a poem when we first started dating. And he wrote me a few notes, because I made him. She was so great for his creativity. He wrote blogs to and about her. She was just his everything.
And here is me. His nothing. His chains, his trap, his death, his downfall, his burden. And I feel like I am all those things to him. I don’t feel like he loves me, much less likes me. And one of his big reasons for not writing things for or to me is because I didn’t read his book. Guess how many of my blogs he has read….. As many of his vows that he stayed true to!
I am not the authority 