In my last post, I was broken. I was the father who crushed their child's dreams of their parents staying together; and my wife wanted to talk. Well, we did...

But it took awhile. First, I refused to talk while I was enraged. Not angry, but enraged. So I told her to leave me the fuck alone for awhile. During that time, there were some more therapy sessions for kiddo; and blissful silence, albeit too short, from her end.

I guess she figured enough time had gone by, because she came down into my room (basement) to talk. Upon seeing my face, she immediately burst into tears and launched herself at me, apologizing for everything. She wants to fix it, she loves me, she doesn't know what happened; but she wants us to get better, together. I told her I loved her, and this is all I wanted. We can't wait to tell kiddo the news.

Fell for it, didn't you? In reality, she stormed down into the basement and demands to know if I was happy? Is this what I wanted to put kiddo and us through? Is my dick really worth all this turmoil? YES. YES IT IS. And I told her that. I asked her: why would I stay unhappy just to benefit her? Isn't her welded shut pussy the catalyst for this whole thing? Didn't she deem said pussy worth this turmoil?

Her shoulders slumped, and she put her head down like a child. She told me she didn't want to divorce. She's willing to go to marriage counseling so she can figure out how to want me again.

In my head, I saw a curtain drop. The grand finale. The statuesque lady belts out a powerful contralto. IT'S FINISHED. IT'S DONE. Take a bow. So I told her I'd rather not do counseling, because I don't want to learn how to love her again.

"Really!?! That's all it took! We said vows! So this whole marriage, our life, our kid, you're gonna destroy us over your dick" Cue the name-calling, the tears, she "feels so used"; I'm "not a real man"; I don't know what love is; she "hopes my dick falls off" and "nobody will want me"..."

Aaaand I'm pissed. Pissed and filled with "righteous fury".

"Fuck you, Sugar-Pie. I've been jumping through every fucking hoop in the world for years. EVERY FUCKING HOOP. EVERY FUCKING QUEST YOU ASSIGNED ME. And you took it as your just due. You knew I was hurting and didn't give a single fuck. There was always some reason to not want to fuck me, to not want me, to not care that I was unhappy. Life was fine as long as you got your fucking roses and I was the only one miserable. Fucking say it. Look at me and say it. You already did, so what's stopping you now? You don't want me. So why in fuck would I still love you? What's there about you for me to love? Seriously. I'm waiting?"

She hates me. I'm a user. Her friends are right; I'm just a punk who runs when things get hard. I'm showing our child how not to be a good partner. This is what's wrong with men today; they're just boys obsessed with sex, who never grew up. We were supposed to be best friends, and I betrayed her.

"I used you for what? The kid we both wanted? The money you don't earn? The chores we split? Or is it the massages only you received? Maybe for the sex we don't have? Get the fuck out of here. And if we were friends, you've been a shitty, one-sided friend who was content to be in an unequal friendship".

"And let me tell you a little secret: your friends are going to be good friends; they'll support you, tell you I'm an asshole, get drunk and help you mock my dick, whatever: but, after the last drop of wine is gone, they're gonna go home and panic-fuck their husbands, just so they don't end up like YOU. You may have saved some marriages; but at the cost of your own".

"Finally, I'm teaching our child that it's ok to leave when they're miserable. I would never want them to think they had to stay married to a YOU".

She screamed at me to get out of her house. I reminded her it's our house, unless she wants to buy my half out now.

I let her slap me; it's a fitting end to this marriage.

I'm semi drunk, fully high, and about to be in a racecar bunk bed at my mom's house. I'm free. I'm fucking free