My final word on the subject.

How dare M make ME out to be the bad guy! How dare he tell me I shouldn't be bitter - being hurt leads to bitterness - he should know, isn't he the king of that? Isn't that why we got to where we did? Because he was a bitter, old man - there, I said it! he was OLD!- who didn't want to work on his own personal demons. Just point out mine. Jesus. I'm so..........gobsmacked that he's the balls to tell me that when I simply ask for my things back that I'm comparing him to B - if that was my plan, I'd have spelled it out so clearly a blind illiterate couldn't have missed it! I can't hurt him the way he hurt me - when IS HE GOING TO GET THAT?!?

That this isn't about HIM for a change, it's about ME. What I NEED. And I'm so sorry that doesn't fit in his fucking plans, but it just doesn't. I'm not going to be his pal, tell him how to save his fucked up "relationships" with his fuck buddies that he says he loves, or give him any help with his fucked up kids. I don't want or need a drinking partner who makes me feel lousy- I'm sorry to a certain extent that he feels the need to make sure all of the blame lands in my lap - hmm, projecting a wee tad are we M? - but make no mistake, I did not leave him. He left me.

He made his bed, picked his bed mate, now he can go fuck her til the cows come home for all I care.

He wants to "make things better"? Try a fucking apology. A PROPER one:

I'm sorry I cheated on you. Lied to you. Made you feel like shit. Treated you with disdain, disregard, and worse? Took you for granted. I'm sorry I had a hand in driving you around the bend, and had the heartlessness to just leave you there, when I made promises I couldn't keep, and was too cowardly to tell you to your face. With the respect and dignity that you deserved. I miss you. I wish I'd told you I loved you when I did. You deserved better. You do deserve better. I'd like to be your friend, and I'll be here, in case that day ever arrives.

But, I won't hold your shit hostage anymore, I won't treat you like you don't exist, or aren't worth it, or are beneath me, even though I said those words to you, out loud, ripping you so badly you couldn't even breathe. I'm sorry for all the things I did that I KNEW would hurt you the most, and I did them anyway. I'd like you to forgive me, but I'll accept it when I hear that you won't. Ever. Forgive. Me.

Because what I did WAS and IS unforgivable. But you, Lis, you were never forgettable.

There. We both know that day will never come. So he'll just have to suck it up, and deal with it that I no longer want any part of him. Why would I? Someone who could treat me with such disdain, and act as though I don't even exist - because he is dead to me.

Dead men can't hurt me.

Ever again.