Yesterday, chump LemonSqueezy posted this text she’d gotten from the Other Woman, a co-worker of her soon-to-be-ex husband. He and the OW had a four-year affair. LS and her STBXH are in a custody battle. The OW would like LS to know that she feels her “pain,” but hey, be a dear and give the man 50/50 (even though she has the kids and he agreed to a 70/30 split).
Um, I’m sure the “no child support at 50/50” wasn’t a deciding factor here. No sir.
Let’s put the OW’s empathy through the Universal Bullshit Translator, shall we?
I am certain you do not want to hear from me,
But I thought, fuck what you want, I’ll write you anyway!
but we are connected whether we want to be or not.
We’ve both been fucking the same guy for four years. Crazy coincidence, huh! Was your last Pap smear kinda funky? We should connect over that some time. Girls night out!
I am reaching out to apologize for the hurt and pain I have been a part of causing. I will forever regret that.
I regret it so much that I continue to fuck your husband and send you unwanted texts. I’d like to convey my sincerest apologies by taking away your children. You’re welcome!
You will likely not give me a chance, but I am not a horrible person. I am flawed,
Ogres are horrible people. They’re warty and overweight and live in walled gardens and scare small children. I’m not like that. I’m lovely and smell like scented air freshener. If I have a flaw, it’s that I Love Too Much.
I’m sure you wouldn’t know what that’s like. You should get out of your walled garden more often.
maybe more than some, but I have all of the same capacity for love and pain that you do.
If you prick me, do I not bleed?
You may think that this has all been easy or that J and I are off in fairytale land. We are not and never have been.
I am not now, and have never been, a fairy tale character. Quit being hurt — or I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll BLOW YOUR HOUSE DOWN!
We are reminded of the price of our love on a daily basis.
Our Love Is Bigger Than Us Both. It’s a force of nature. An F-12 tornado of desire on the Fujita scale. You may have been crushed by its path, had your home obliterated, found your car in a tree, and your children huddled under mattresses in the basement. Such is the price of our love.
If not by an external party, certainly by our own hearts and psyches.
Narcissists! Party of one! Your table is ready!
We both love our children and mourn the loss of our families.
If only cake could have gone on forever. We mourn its loss.
I wish that somehow things were different.
And yet, I fucked your husband for four years.
I know people stay together even when the love is gone or maybe when things were never really right from the beginning, but I cannot imagine that is what any of us really want.
Fucking your husband was all for the best. You should see it that way. He never loved you from the beginning. Isn’t that swell coming from me? Those children we had with our spouses? They weren’t conceived in love, so isn’t it best that we just break up their little homes?
We should have had the courage and integrity to leave or make changes in our marriages earlier. I own that completely. Our actions were not truthful or in integrity.
Yes, four straight years of cowardice. God, I love cake.
J is broken, he never chose me over his children.
No, all those times he was fucking me instead of explaining algebra homework, or sitting through a choral recital or reading bedtime stories — he was choosing his children. In his mind. Which is broken.
His love for his boys is evident in everything he does.
Like having a four-year affair and trying to ensure that he doesn’t pay a dime of child support. Can’t you FEEL the LOVE in that?
I know you are hurt and want to make him hurt just as much.
Jealous of us much? I know you’re hurt and it gives me shivers of delight to know how much you care. How much you want your husband and family together and know that I HAVE THEM! God, the KIBBLES!
I know this jealousy makes you bitter and unforgiving and want to lash out. Please do. I get a contact high from the drama.
Make him feel what him and I have made you feel.
Just kidding! I don’t feel anything!
I understand that. And I guess I am letting you know he feels it.
Only I know how he suffers. We share a special little brokenness that we keep in velvet boxes. We take our brokenness out occasionally to pet and admire it. Oh precious brokenness… Schmoochie, schmoochie! Who’s your mommy?
YOU make him suffer over consequences. You fail to appreciate his special brokenness! I’m sorry, I can’t let you pet it. Time to put Precious B back in the box.
Point is, you should feel bad for this man who fucked around on you for four years. He’s HURT. If you were a bigger person, you could put yourself in his place. But you can’t! I guess you’re small-minded that way.
He is a good father.
The same way I’m a good mother. I’d sell my kids for a kibble. Fancy a quick fuck in the storage locker?
Your children deserve both parents, even if it’s not on the terms you had hoped for. I am not being dramatic or exaggerating when I say, I don’t think Jeremiah will make it without his children.
The UBT is perplexed. Jeremiah seems to have functioned quite well without his children’s presence for four years.
Translation: If you don’t give us what we want, Jeremiah will DIE! He won’t make it! He’ll crack up and any crazy thing he does after this — online gambling, public drunkenness, Jerry Garcia neckties — will ALL BE YOUR FAULT! Forever! Because you insisted on child support!
Don’t kill him with your reasonable, adult expectations. I beg of you.
That may be what you ultimately want, but since I am also a parent and I love J I feel like you should know the price of not sharing your children. None of us can know the ultimate price the children will pay.
Our love has a Price! You must all pay our Price! If you don’t pay our price, the children will suffer!
I know J has told you he will leave me, if he can see his kids more.
Sounds like an excellent suggestion. What’s the problem here?
That is not an easy choice for him. To choose one love over another.
The UBT thinks it’s not that hard. He’s been “choosing one love over another” for years. But now this divorce shit has complicated matters. So sad when cake dies.
But he will do it. He means it.
Help me hang on to your husband. I’m imploring you to do me a solid, for our love.