I just received news that Husband #2 passed away this morning. February 22, 2022.

My heart aches for my son who is probably the only person this ex had who cared about him. Husband #2’s father stood next to the hospice bed where his creation died. I can guarantee this was far from the grandiose bullshit life he’s lived and taught his son to be just like he is.

I suppose all those fleeting hopes and fears of wanting this monster to die for all the pain and suffering my daughter and I were put through: all those thoughts and now it’s become it; yet I really don’t care. Maybe because I resent the fact that my daughter and I will still deal with the moments of remembering that horrible chapter. All for what?


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