Poof. A life gone

Amidst the violence that owns humanity's soul, the lack of love and care and kindness evidenced by ex-wife is irrelevant.

That's why she is too. She could have been a real person. Instead she has the empathetic bandwidth of the 2 x 4 she swings at everyone who disrespects her narrative.

Anyway, I left her in better financial condition than anyone I know. I bet she'll send me a thank you card one day! Not that she sent me any during the 29 years she gaslit and trash talked me and her other victims.

 None of us deserved you—nor does any other good person.

You’re getting $2.9 million more dollars from me in a month. Only a million left. You have one job in the midst of all this transactional disaster. To pick up a coffee table and 12 dinner utensils. Your response?  “I’m out of the country.”  Cancel your stupid trip and get you spoons!

 You are such a useless tone-deaf troll! You have no conceivable standing as a coach, a healer, or a mental health expert, and I continue to believe you are damaging many others now as you continue your sociopathic charade. I don’t know you now, but I know your type after therapy, deep reading, ketamine-therapy, anti-depression and ptsd treatments, and a support group. You are a poster child.

I use NVC and parts work and family constellation concepts in difficult conversations every day. Not taking classes. USING them to be clearer and to resolve conflicts I have with others. You’re an amateur despite all the time away from the relationship (and your affairs) that I got whenever you took off to chase a new modality for a week or two. 

You are not qualified to judge anyone. I know you can’t stop. But you’ll never make anything of yourself until you do. I present your life so far as evidence. I have learned from you one thing:  how to have an enemy who I hate deeply. 

I’ll leave your trinkets out in the hall for you. I did a smudge ceremony in the apartment and I don’t want you to soil the space. 

When anyone challenges your narrative, you turn on them like a caged animal. The cage is your own. No one else has one. Your efforts to imprison others with your family history can not be fixed by pretending to be some sort of healer that you are most certainly not. 

Enjoy your eternal trip while the rest of us clean up your shit. Broken damaged, blamed, discarded. Your ex-friends. You are boarding with a ticket paid for with stolen love.  Your currency is the neurological breakdown of those who thought you were worthy of attention. We all quickly knew our mistake. You aren’t. And you don’t have a love currency of your own which is why you’re so afraid and covetous. You lived with the most generous kind person I know—and concluded you were robbed. I know you are, but what am I?