GET OUT

I have been gritting my teeth and putting up with him. In my house. Too long. Too many seconds, minutes, hours. Hanging out. Being here. Was tolerable. kind of. But after everyone left the graduation reception and he had his nap. Things went south. Guess it started with a phone call from my guy friend. The one who took me out on a great first date complete with flowers but hasn't asked for a second. Instead I get some phone conversation which is a pleasant distraction.

Apparently at 19, I was a hussy who threw myself at him---X was a victim at the young age of 27. poor guy. Get out of my room. This conversation is over. End of discussion.

He's found someone to make him happy.

He is going to marry her in the spring.

Nice of me to pay for the divorce, push it through so he could marry her.

I'm not sure why, but I was FURIOUS FURIOUS FURIOUS. With admirable restraint, I told him to stop talking to me. I didn't care. I don't need to hear details. He can do what he likes. I'd prefer he move out of town rather than bring her here, but it's his choice. Get out of my room and leave me alone. Don't touch me. Don't try to make me feel better. GET OUT.

After he finally left, I was boiling over with rage. I wanted to beat something, ruin something, break something. So, I pounded on doors. ouch. I think its gonna hurt in the morning.