Home » A Wasted Life » I Had Taken Enough Bullets

I Had Taken Enough Bullets

I made the trip back to F***** and decided to stop by K****s’ house to tell her what I had done.  I asked her to try to listen as a woman and not as my daughter.  I was explicit and did not lie about anything.  She listened and didn’t say much.  I told her that I would understand if she never wanted to see me or talk to me again and then I went home.
I went to visit my son and told him.  He was supportive and didn’t show in any way that he was judging me.
I called B***** and told her that I needed to talk to her.  She said “I already know.”  J*** had gotten to her first so she wasn’t interested in talking to me.  He had given her the impression that I had gone up there for the sole purpose of breaking up him and his attachment.  Once again, it was all about him!
Unfortunately, that was the beginning of the end for me and B*****.
I told N**** and she was as non-judgmental as I knew she would be.  She rarely, if ever had anything bad to say about anybody.  That was a trait she had that I had always admired.
J*** emailed me to tell me that he had talked to S**** and told him to stop texting me.  I told him that he had.
He said that my visit was “very effective on several fronts and that it was actually quite impressive.”
He said “you set me up nicely.”  He said that he was shaken up for a few days but then got over it.
Did he really want to compare set-ups?  Had he forgotten that he set me up so that he could get to go to Canada?  Had he forgotten that he set me up so that he could get his brother to bash me while he hid down the hall?  Had he forgotten how many times I had been set up so that drunken excuse for a mama of his could spew out her vile, vicious venom while he sat there like a stump?  What about setting me up when he took vows and promised to be a faithful husband?
How many times had I been set-up with “guilt gifts” so he could try to cover up what he had done or what he was doing?  No.  We weren’t going to compare “set-ups.”  He was far too ahead in that game.
He said that after I left the bar, his attachment came over to him and said “I’m leaving.”  He said “okay.”
I told him not to worry. She would be back.  He said “yeah, probably.”  I told him that he and I both knew she would and we both knew why.  He laughed.
A few days later, my “confidential informant” sent me pictures of J*** and his attachment at a Valentines’ Day party in an airplane hangar.
How could he so shamelessly lie to me when he was saying “oh, babe…..I didn’t do anything this year on either end?”  He knew he was taking her to that party that night when he was saying that to me.  How could he be such a blatant fucking liar?
When I asked him about it, he came up with some lame excuse that it was “a newspaper thing.”  Okay.  It didn’t look like a newspaper thing to me.  It looked like J*** and his attachment with their arms wrapped around each other, standing under balloon shaped hearts.
I’m pretty sure she got a nice bunch of flowers.  I didn’t get a bunch flowers.  All I got was the usual…..a bunch of lies.
My “informant” told me that those pictures could be used as “evidence” and that there was “plenty more!”  Funny.  I hadn’t even thought of that but……J*** was a chronic liar so I decided to hang on to them.
From that day on, I referred to that incident as the “St. Valentines’ Day Massacre.”  J*** had effectively destroyed any possibility of my ability or willingness to believe anything he said……..again…….ever.
That was pretty much the last straw.  In April, I emailed J*** and told him that I was going to file for divorce.
He emailed me back and reminded me that I wouldn’t be on his insurance anymore if we got divorced.  Yep.  That’s exactly what I was thinking about…..not being on his insurance anymore.
Then he asked me not to have him “served” at work.  Unbelievable!  It was all about him……..again!  He didn’t want to be served divorce papers at work but he didn’t have a problem prancing around with his attachment at work…..while he was still a married man.
I continued my sessions with B**** and had told him about J*** calling me on Valentines’ Day and what he said.  Then I told him about the pictures I had gotten.  He said “boy, he’s a real piece of work, isn’t he?”  I said “yes, he is.”  I told him that I was going to file for divorce.  He said he thought I probably should have done it many years and many “lies” ago.
I told him that it was difficult to look around at things J*** had given to me…..not because they made me sad but because they made me sick.  I wondered if that was normal.  B**** said that I should pack everything up and get rid of it and he meant everything.  I started getting things together immediately.
I contacted an attorney and listened to his advice.  I wasn’t sure I agreed with everything he said and after a few weeks, I asked J*** if he wanted to try to “hash things out ourselves.”  He agreed, so I found a mediator. I gave J*** the dates and he said he would come down for the meeting.  J*** was all for filing in F******.  It was a no-fault state.
Then what do I get in the mail?  A fucking mothers’ day card!  He wrote “you are the love of my life and I wish I could go back to 1975 and do it all over again but only if it was with you.”  He went on to say “I’m proud that you are the mother of my children.”  “WHAT IS WRONG WITH THIS MAN?”
I wonder what the card he sent to his attachment said….”I wish I had met you first?  (That’s what he said to me.) I wish I was the father of your child?” (Even though she is a girl?)
My informant was still sending me things.  I wasn’t on social media so I had no idea what was buzzing.  After J*** cheated on his attachment, she was posting all these sappy little sayings.  She posted that her preference was to “forgive, forget and walk away.”  J*** responded that his preference was to “forgive, not forget and talk it through.”  I didn’t know whether to laugh or throw up.  His preferences for me were calling me a “fucking bitch” and telling me to “get over it.”  I guess the best “posting” came from R*** when she was more or less begging his attachment to “try again.”  Remember, her response to me was “J*** won’t be alone very long.  All the women love J***.”  She was not only condoning her sons’ adultery….she was encouraging it.
R*** raised J*** but who the hell raised her?  It was at that time that I think I realized where J*** had gotten his entitled, narcissistic, “I don’t care about anybody but myself” view of things.
It sort of made me want to send a couple of people one of “Minny Jacksons’ chocolate pies.”
He erroneously thought that it was either my sister or my cousin who was sending me the information.  Of course he would.  It couldn’t be one of his friends!  He believed that all of his friends supported his sense of superiority and…….his open adultery.
I had asked my informant not to send me anything else but Ihad gotten one last thing and parts of it almost set me on fire.  I found out that J*** had written his attachment a check for a thousand dollarsFunny.  It was a joint checking account and he hadn’t bothered to mention it to me.  I know that if he had seen a check that I had written to a man for that amount, he would have immediately called me and asked me who the hell that man was and why I was giving him money.
I kept it “under my hat” until J*** came down to F******.
J*** came over and had a couple of beers.  We started talking and I asked him about the check.  I think I caught him unawares.  He said it was a “loan” to pay her taxes and she had “immediately paid him back.”  Right.  He either forgot or thought I was too stupid to know that I had access to the accounts.  I checked to see if there had been a “deposit” and of course, there hadn’t.  I wanted to ask him just what kind of blithering idiot he thought I was but I just let him continue to think that he was the smartest person in the room.
I asked him why she didn’t ask her wealthy father for a loan.  Lo and behold……his attachments’ situation had changed again!
Now, she only worked “occasionally,” the land deal hadn’t worked out and her fathers’ wealth was in the form of a life insurance policy.  His lies had become so prolific that there were no longer blurred lines between truth and deception.
He asked me how I knew he wrote her a check.  I just looked at him.  He said it again and I said “maybe she told somebody.”  He threw up his hands and said “of course she did.”
While he was there, we decided to go see our son.  We got something to eat and then found a place to just sit and talk.  J*** delivered his usual “how to live policies” and then we talked about the baby that was on the way.
I was absolutely speechless when J*** looked at our son, pointed his finger at him and said “if it’s a girl, you can never let her know how disappointed you are.”  
Who the hell is this man?  He had just confirmed what my girls and I had always believed.  They knew that he was disappointed that they were girls and he had just explained his disgust when he talked about his attachment having a kid….”a girl.”  He would further express his disdain for his attachments’ daughter later.
The day before the mediation, I asked J*** if he wanted to do something that we had never done before……have a drink together.  He thought it was a good idea.  He came and picked me up and we went to a little place not far from my house.
That’s when I discovered margaritas. I still hadn’t gotten my appetite back and I was even thinner than I was two months before he had last seen me.  My grandson had left two Oreo cookies behind after I kept him, so I ate those just to “have something on my stomach.”
The drinks were “two for one” but they were kind of small, I thought.  Not being a drinker, I didn’t realize how fast they would take effect and I think I drank four.  I remember sitting at the table one minute and the next, J*** had his arm around me, dragging me to the car and then I was spewing like “old faithful” on the inside of his door.  He got me home and as soon as we walked in the back door, I anointed my kitchen floor.
Somehow I ended up in the living room and put me on the sofa.  I remember him taking off my pants.  They were covered with a mixture of margarita and Oreo cookie.
I will say that J*** was uncharacteristically kind.  He made sure I was covered up and had a puke bucket beside the sofa before he left.
He called the next morning to see how I was feeling.  I was immensely tired but that was all.  I asked him how he felt and he said he was okay.  Apparently, K**** wasn’t thrilled with our decision to have drinks together.
He said he would come by and get me and we’d go to the mediators’ office together.
It was difficult at best and horrible at worst but we came to an agreement.  It was agreed that we would return things to each other within a specified amount of time and we both had responsibilities for other things.
We chatted a bit before he took me home.  He tried to make me think that his attachment had “kicked him to the curb” but I knew she had already come back.  As I said, I had known all along that she would.  His opinion of my intelligence never ceased to amaze me.
I talked to K**** and she was close to livid.  She had taken a picture of J***s’ “parking job.”  He was in her front yard.  I couldn’t help but laugh although, it was scary when I gave it a second thought.  J*** had told me that she was waiting for him with her arms folded and she was “pissed off.”  He said he told her he wasn’t going to talk about it and was going to lay down.  That’s not exactly what happened.  He spent quite a few hours, passed out in his car.  She eventually went out and told him to come in the house.  I guess I was just glad that he had actually made it to her house because he was apparently as hammered as I was.
The day after the mediation, J*** went back.

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