Mexico

I am not okay right now. It’s been a really rough week. I haven’t been okay since the midnight visit from our little friend.

I haven’t showered in a week. I haven’t left the house. I haven’t been talking to people. I haven’t been capable. I’ve spent my time trying to argue this case and take it apart, looking at what I have and what they have. Basically, I spent my week putting shit together to try to talk Wolfson into charges.

I figured if I could really lock it down and gift-wrap it for him, maybe I could talk him into it. I’m sure he wouldn’t bother talking to me, though.

This last midnight visit felt really real. Like really, really real. I was pretty sure when he was coming off her phone at midnight that it would stop completely. Like, obviously they should have had a chat and he told her not to give me any more ammo, because that would obviously be the smart thing to do.

Thus, when she came back, I kind of just went, “This is fucking bad.”

I missed my birthday because of it. I don’t know, I was really looking forward to it, but I couldn’t quite get out of bed. I haven’t showered because I was worried about trying to save her.

So I will say I am feeling a bit betrayed at the moment. She, of course, came to the website from Mexico. So apparently they went on a vacation for our second apocaversary.

She does this when they go out of town. They went to Florida and Las Vegas, and she is so small-minded and basic and immature that she thought she would make me jealous because she had met the kids and parents. That is what that meant.

I don’t believe she grasps what happened here with me and the rape. I was really upset about Vegas because it meant he was here. I am really unsure why she would think I would be jealous.

To be clear, I’m really not sitting here waiting for {D} to come back. Have I, in some way, not made that shit clear? That’s really not what I’m doing.

I seriously want these fuckers to go away. I’ve asked. It doesn’t stop. This is so fucking toxic. But this is, like, seriously my place to fucking process shit and be heard. And of course {D} has taken control now.

I have thought about how I would react when Mexico popped up. I knew it would come one day. I was hoping I wouldn’t know. Because frankly, it’s just really fucking unfair to me to know.

It is, to me, the clear signal that he made it through everything. He isn’t worried about anything at all. This is over for him. And that’s unfair to me because he should be in prison.

If there was just anything at all in this world, his sorry ass wouldn’t be on a fucking beach living it up while I fucking stressed out and went into a spiral arguing cases to invisible juries on the wall.

That is truly information I don’t need to have. I guess it’s wonderful that she is thinking of me while they enjoy their vacation. She always seems to have me on her mind. So why is this bitch so fucking jealous of me? Like, he picked her and she got him. That was very much for the best for me personally. Those two thoughtless, narcissistic fucks deserve each other.

While they’re on an expensive trip to Mexico, I’m crying. She sent me into a fucking spiral all fucking week, and let’s always remember I’m in constant pain. I don’t know if I’ve talked about this much, but when I tried to kill myself, I fell. I had taken a bunch of pills, and I fell and broke my eight upper front teeth. Aesthetically, it’s not as bad as it sounds. But physically it hurts, and I can’t eat anything hard. Everything has to be kind of soft for me to chew it. It’s really uncomfortable, and I’m so self-conscious about it. And I don’t have any money, so I can’t afford to get them fixed. And they are blowing money in Mexico.

I really didn’t want to fucking know that. Not because I am jealous, but because it just really makes it super motherfucking clear that there is no fucking justice in this world. Nothing you do matters. Karma doesn’t fucking exist, and horrible fucking people get to live happy lives.

I get that I’m harsh, but you have to fucking understand I have been a good person all my fucking life. I’m the person who has always stood up for others. I am the one who will show the fuck up at 3 a.m. if something goes down. I am the one who will jump in and save a life. I’m the one who will intervene to protect people. Hell, I’m the one who put money in {D}’s $800-a-month used Mercedes so he had something to give to homeless people at stoplights.

That was me. But I’ve been dead for two years already. I kind of need someone like me to show up for me right now.

I do really wish I had died in that suicide attempt. I mean, this has just been inhumane, having to live like this for this long. I begged {D} to come kill me. I really wanted him to. I kind of thought he might want to. I still actually leave the door unlocked for him at night. Just in case. He always said he was going to kill us both, and I was always like, “At least I won’t die alone that way.”

So it’s dawning on me that I just kind of wasted two years fighting something I could never fucking win. This is so fucking unfair. It would have been so much easier if he had killed me.

The one thing I have is that I know {D} truly hates himself. He will probably drink enough while he is on vacation to spiral at least once.

I also know he certainly has a conscience of some sort. He knows exactly what he did to me. He knows the person he killed, too. And he knows for a fact he is the one who did it. If there is a God in this world, I hope he has at least one night where he is just racked with guilt for what he didn’t just take from me, but for the person who was so good to him that he took from the world and left what’s left of me in her place.