Caught Out There
I am so angry I can't even type properly, so forgive me if this comes out like shit.
She called me at around 10pm. In tears. And the worst part was, I wasn't surprised, for he'd fucked her over before, and it was only a matter of time before history repeated itself. I was over there within ten minutes, to have her answer the door, and collapse into my arms.
As much as I said it was, it wasn't okay. He had brought over one of his loose women. To stay. In the apartment which she was paying for. Luckily she had arrived at the apartment while they were out. And so the process began to get him out. I wanted so badly to burn everything, and make him realise what it really is like to have nothing. For both myself and she have been there before. He had disrespected her to the highest level. What a fucking cunt.
As one of the most strongest women I know, contained her emotions right before my eyes, in an attempt to get the necessary action done, he arrived back at the apartment, after my attempts mind you, to get in contact with him to tell him that he is no longer fucking welcome at the apartment, or anywhere fucking near her. He arrived to silence. He picked up a bag which wasn't his. I told him that he could take the contents, but the bag stays here. Pointing his finger, he told me not to talk to him that way. Immediately I pull out one of the strongest 'fuck-off-otherwise-feel-my-wrath' faces I have ever conjured. Crazy Cambo. It was on.
As he tried to leave the apartment, she stood in the doorway, demanding answers. He refused to answer as I was there, and asked me! asked me! to get her out of the doorway..
'Don't ask me to get her out of her doorway. Don't ask me to fight your battles for you. She can do what she likes', I told him.
'I'm not asking you to fucking fight for me..', he screamed.
We screamed at each other. He's a fucking coward that can't take any responsibility for his actions. Never in my life, have I heard such weak responses, especially from a salesperson. He must be shit at his job.
As we continued to scream, she yelled for us to stop, so I did. As much as I was upset, this was not my battle, nor did it have anything to do with me. He didn't want me there. And he made this clear by yelling it to her. She asked me to leave. I wasn't leaving. Not with that cunt, treating her like that. So I went outside, and as I did, the anger could not be contained, I may be small, gay and Asian, but I was ready to get all hysterically violent on his ass. I have strong legs.
I yelled as I walked to the courtyard...
'Just get out! GET THE FUCK OUT!'
I stood outside listening to the rain, while also listening to their conversation. I was ready to jump in and go psycho, cut sick, throw his shit out, and literally kick him out. I couldn't believe how incredibly transparent he was. His technique in communication was so weak, I was ready to vomit. He tried to blame her. I was going through mixed emotions, punching the air one minute, then almost in tears the next. It wasn't fair that she was going through this. I just wasn't.
'It's all your fault, don't tell me it's mine. You brought this on...', sooky-fucking-sook he did.
His ass deserves to be on the street. For she owes him NOTHING. Not a fucking cent, and certainly no more time from her heart. And any possible way that he could thank her for everything she's done for him, he clearly threw that out the window, forever, when he brought that slag over to stay.
She asked me to leave after they continued to argue for quite some time. And respecting her need for answers, and since he was adamant at not answering while I was there (like he has a right to decide that anyway), I decided it was best. And so she's there now, as I type. Trying to talk to him. Any fucking bet, he's just talking, spinning his words, turning the whole thing around on her. And she can't respond, because he doesn't let her. I pray that she remembers the heartache. I pray that she sees him for what he is. I pray she realises that she deserves much better. I pray that she understands that she is worth so much more.
One day. One day. He will wake up and realise that life isn't that fucking easy. And when that day comes, he'll see the trail of damage he's left behind and he will emotionally crumble. I guarantee it. I pray for it. I live for that day. For when that does happen, because he has refused to take any responsibility for his actions, he will lack the strength, the resilience, and the common sense, in order to deal with it.
She's my blood. And no one messes with my blood. And if he ever reads this. He better fucking remember it.
She called me at around 10pm. In tears. And the worst part was, I wasn't surprised, for he'd fucked her over before, and it was only a matter of time before history repeated itself. I was over there within ten minutes, to have her answer the door, and collapse into my arms.
As much as I said it was, it wasn't okay. He had brought over one of his loose women. To stay. In the apartment which she was paying for. Luckily she had arrived at the apartment while they were out. And so the process began to get him out. I wanted so badly to burn everything, and make him realise what it really is like to have nothing. For both myself and she have been there before. He had disrespected her to the highest level. What a fucking cunt.
As one of the most strongest women I know, contained her emotions right before my eyes, in an attempt to get the necessary action done, he arrived back at the apartment, after my attempts mind you, to get in contact with him to tell him that he is no longer fucking welcome at the apartment, or anywhere fucking near her. He arrived to silence. He picked up a bag which wasn't his. I told him that he could take the contents, but the bag stays here. Pointing his finger, he told me not to talk to him that way. Immediately I pull out one of the strongest 'fuck-off-otherwise-feel-my-wrath' faces I have ever conjured. Crazy Cambo. It was on.
As he tried to leave the apartment, she stood in the doorway, demanding answers. He refused to answer as I was there, and asked me! asked me! to get her out of the doorway..
'Don't ask me to get her out of her doorway. Don't ask me to fight your battles for you. She can do what she likes', I told him.
'I'm not asking you to fucking fight for me..', he screamed.
We screamed at each other. He's a fucking coward that can't take any responsibility for his actions. Never in my life, have I heard such weak responses, especially from a salesperson. He must be shit at his job.
As we continued to scream, she yelled for us to stop, so I did. As much as I was upset, this was not my battle, nor did it have anything to do with me. He didn't want me there. And he made this clear by yelling it to her. She asked me to leave. I wasn't leaving. Not with that cunt, treating her like that. So I went outside, and as I did, the anger could not be contained, I may be small, gay and Asian, but I was ready to get all hysterically violent on his ass. I have strong legs.
I yelled as I walked to the courtyard...
'Just get out! GET THE FUCK OUT!'
I stood outside listening to the rain, while also listening to their conversation. I was ready to jump in and go psycho, cut sick, throw his shit out, and literally kick him out. I couldn't believe how incredibly transparent he was. His technique in communication was so weak, I was ready to vomit. He tried to blame her. I was going through mixed emotions, punching the air one minute, then almost in tears the next. It wasn't fair that she was going through this. I just wasn't.
'It's all your fault, don't tell me it's mine. You brought this on...', sooky-fucking-sook he did.
His ass deserves to be on the street. For she owes him NOTHING. Not a fucking cent, and certainly no more time from her heart. And any possible way that he could thank her for everything she's done for him, he clearly threw that out the window, forever, when he brought that slag over to stay.
She asked me to leave after they continued to argue for quite some time. And respecting her need for answers, and since he was adamant at not answering while I was there (like he has a right to decide that anyway), I decided it was best. And so she's there now, as I type. Trying to talk to him. Any fucking bet, he's just talking, spinning his words, turning the whole thing around on her. And she can't respond, because he doesn't let her. I pray that she remembers the heartache. I pray that she sees him for what he is. I pray she realises that she deserves much better. I pray that she understands that she is worth so much more.
One day. One day. He will wake up and realise that life isn't that fucking easy. And when that day comes, he'll see the trail of damage he's left behind and he will emotionally crumble. I guarantee it. I pray for it. I live for that day. For when that does happen, because he has refused to take any responsibility for his actions, he will lack the strength, the resilience, and the common sense, in order to deal with it.
She's my blood. And no one messes with my blood. And if he ever reads this. He better fucking remember it.
posted by Christopher at 12:40 AM
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