It’s fucking Friday again, huh? These last couple of weeks have been hell. Jesus, this lawsuit is bullshit.
I’m trying to get them to let me depose him in person. I will have an advantage if I do that. See, the one thing I am certain of in my life is that {D} is not scared of me in the traditional sense. He isn’t afraid of getting punched in the face. Actually, he’d probably enjoy it. He’d probably pop a boner and then things would just get confusing.
{D} knows I know. That’s a problem for {D}. He usually keeps his women so blindly trauma bonded. Look at all of you watching me. You would never have it in you to actually call his ass out. You will protect him even though you hate him, because you love him. Trauma.
Trauma is the answer to everything.
{D} is afraid to look at me. He knows what I can see behind his eyes. I also know what he can see. I think looking at me, {D} isn’t going to like what he sees is left of me. I think he might feel bad. I think it might click in his head that he did this to me. That is what I hope for, anyways.
They said they’re not going to make him show up in person. I said it was bullshit, in so many words, and I was warned that the only reason I didn’t get sanctions was because I’m pro se. Me and my mouth.
Fuck this arbitration stuff. We are going to trial anyway. This shit is nonbinding.
I’m going to need to take a loan on the car or, alternatively, sell the Cartier kitty. It’s this super heavy 24k rose gold pavé diamond panther necklace that my boyfriend Rich bought for me kind of on a whim because I loved it. It’s gaudy and huge, but it’s my kitty cat necklace, and it reminds me of my grandmas.
That’s going to hurt to give up. I’m going to try to see what I can get on the car. I mean, it’s just a necklace. But it’s from the last time someone thought I was worth it.
We’ll talk about Rich one day. I was supposed to go out on a date with {D}, and I got an email driving home from work that I got fired, and I freaked out. And {D}, when I met him the first time, was angry at women. He was going off about his ex-wife and how she needed to get a goddamn job, and he was pissed because his daughter would call him by his first name rather condescendingly. So I was too intimidated to show up after losing my job.
The following day, however, I met Rich. He was probably 25-plus years older than me. All we did was eat Mexican food and listen to X. He was born in Pasadena. If that sounds familiar, it’s because it describes {D} too.
So Rich embraced me being jobless and took me everywhere. He traveled all over for work, so one week we’d be in New Orleans, the next Aspen, the following Chicago. I’d kind of spend my days in the hotel room, and then we would see the town together.
That man took me to every taco stand in East L.A. {LP} thought he was the greatest.
We bought the house. Little McMansion with a pool and a putting green. We got engaged. He had asked me to marry him on our first date.
Then Covid hit and we got stuck, and {LP} got stuck here, and he and I were constantly fighting over him doing his work. And Rich, first of all, was not used to being at home, and secondly, his child is older than me, so he wasn’t great with kids. I mean, he was good with him, but not with 12-year-olds. Rich would end up telling me he didn’t want to be a stepfather. So I moved out.
I still miss him. Everyone thought I was in it for the money. I honestly loved him. We would get lost in record stores together, and we both loved cemeteries. And he encouraged me. I really I was depressed and if I had been better I think it would have been different.
It’s going to hurt to give up that necklace. I’m really going to be pissed if I’m giving it up and they won’t make him at least face me. I don’t know if it’s worth it at that point.
I have not been doing okay the last couple weeks. Since the thing with {D} being here and like it stressful because the Lawyer is looking for shit on me and trying to push every fucking button .{D} knows I have. And it's working. Really well actually. The passing thought of her makes me fucking livid. I want an attorney. I just want it over with.
But hey, I know you're all {D}'s people and friends. And I guess good job being loyal. But please remember I'm a person. A very traumatized person. I just I could use someone. Just to talk to. Hit me up if you ever want to volunteer. I won't even ask who you are. Text me 702-469-7523
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