Do Us Part

Even if a marriage is made in Heaven doesn't mean it won't end up being pure Hell; let me tell you. Those once red roses have wilted and dried until the petals look like dried blood in a black scab, that once sweet cake has become hard as a rock, it could break your teeth. The next time the bells will be ringing will be for the death do us part. Frankly, I don't think I can wait that long. 

He thinks his farts don't stink. 

He thinks every idea he has is the be all end all. 

He thinks every woman wants to fuck him.

Even if every woman did want to tickle his sack I wouldn't give two licks of a dog's asshole. He touches me and I just want to cringe. I wish I could just rip the damn thing off. 

THE LAST THING WE NEED IS ANOTHER KID! 

The bastard believes every sperm he spews is somehow destined to be the Pope, the President, the fucking Chairman of the board. He doesn't have a clue. He comes home from work, fixes a drink, plays "dad" for a few minutes. So clueless. He has no idea what it takes to keep our little angels from becoming the minion of the devil and pulling us all straight into Hell. No fucking idea!

Why do I stay with him? Vows? Our faith? I have zero faith at this point that anything is going to get any better. The longer I stay with him the more I just want to leave. Do I really care if I am excommunicated? All those pious assholes think they can judge me? Sally, who secretly gets drunk and tries to fuck her neighbor's kid? Mitchell? Just a matter of time before he goes to jail for ripping off his clients. The Taylor's? I am fucking positive he is molesting his kids. All those people make me sick and they are all his friends anyway. I can just see them all coming over to console him if I leave. They have no idea what a self centered, egotistical prick he is. 

And to make matters worse, like that is even possible, he called me "Lucille" today. He knows I hate when he calls me that. If I leave him that will be the first thing I do is change my name so no one calls me "Lucy", "Lucille", "Lucky", "Loose", I hate them all. I will come up with a new name for every day until I put all this misery way behind me. Bitch. Cunt. Whore. Whatever. He can call me anything he wants as long as he doesn't call me "Lucille" like my Mother did when she was pissed off when I skipped service. He only calls me that when wants to let me know that I am somehow failing his expectations. What a condescending prick!

Like I haven't done everything already to make him happy. Cook. Clean. Make his drink. Suck his fucking cock. Oh, I'm sorry, I just have to wash the baby's puke off  before I get down on my knees to worship your majesty's magnificent whiskey dick that smells like Limburger cheese. Douchebag.

He expects me to worship the ground he walks on. When I walk out the door he is going to shit his pants. I don't think he can even boil an egg without some slave to do his bidding.

Talk about oblivious. His best friend had his tongue up my ass this morning. Clueless. King of the Castle getting cuckholded by his best man. Pathetic. The sex doesn't even have to be that good to be better than the minute man wham bam thank you ma'am routine. When I leave I will light a match to all of it. When I leave I don't give a rat's ass what any of them think. 

The kids might not get it now but they will when they grow up. 

What would I say now if I had to explain it? "Kids, I am leaving your father because he is an insufferable ass who acts like I should do whatever he wants at the drop of a hat and wants me to be his mother when he isn't treating me like his whore?" They won't get it. They think he is God in Heaven. He can do no wrong. They never see the bruises. They don't know how he rapes me figuratively and literally. They have no idea. I am fine keeping it that way. They will figure it out. They will forgive me. 

I think. I hope. Maybe not. I will die though if I stay. Suicide will be much harder to explain that's for sure. So I am willing to take the chance. 

Today I am going to finally do it. I am going to go out on my own. I am going to walk away from this. I am going to become my own woman. I am going to have a life. I will be alone but I know I will be a helluva lot happier than I am now. Even a match made in Heaven can wind up in Hell. And if I am truly already in Hell then the best way for me to deal with it is to own it. Deal with it and move on. I'm sure he will tell everyone he kicked me out so what does it matter anyway? Till death do us part. Or until I figure out how fucked up things are and deal with it like an adult.