Suburban Goddess

I was in the process of moving tonight, when the phone rang. A strange voice was on the other line. He asked if I’d heard of him. I said no. He asked if I knew his wife, Darlene. I said no. He said I should, because his wife had been having an affair with my husband for the past year and a half.

Suddenly, everything made perfect sense.

He told me things I didn’t want to hear. He told me about how they would travel out of town together. He took her to New Orleans in the Lotus. He took her to the beach with my child last weekend. He’s bought her extravegent gifts. I wanted to throw up. He told me they’d been carrying on through their private MySpace accounts. Lo and behold, against my better judgement, I went and looked. This is what I found:

I want to throw up. I want answers. I want to know how I could be so stupid. I want to know why he couldn’t be a man. I obviously know why he wouldn’t work it out with me now; she’s a beautiful woman. And she’s got great boobs. But THIS IS WHY WE’RE NOT TOGETHER. Because you CHECKED OUT. Here’s the proof. And if this isn’t enough, I have an inbox full of other pictures…. thanks to this woman’s husband.

No wonder you weren’t interested in therapy. I could say a million spiteful, hateful things, but what good would it do? This says everything for me.

This entry was posted on May 24, 2007 at 10:18 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Responses are currently closed, but you can trackback from your own site.