Since my last diary entry I've gone through a whole range of emotions.
Rage, confusion, hurt, jealousy, more rage.
Facebook kindly showed me last night that he has a new facebook page. I looked at it. I shouldn't have. I didn't really know it was him as he hasn't had a page in his own name before. He conducted his affair via my second account that I used to use for anonymous advertising etc. But I was curious so I clicked on it and see that it was him but the only friends I was able to see were his sisters, who I'm also friends with.
That's fine, he can have his facebook page. I give no fucks.
There's only one post. A photo of a car, and it has one comment. I can't help myself. I read it. And fuck me if it isn't the old trout I suspected of being the other woman months ago. All the comment said was "nice car xx". And that was enough to dredge it all up. How the fuck dare she be in a place in her life where she feels its acceptable to be posting comments on his facebook. What kind of disgusting moral lacking piece of shit is he that he would make a new facebook account and add the married dog he was shagging as a friend?
I saw red. I was boiling hot and having palpitations. I wanted to drive to his house and murder him. And her if she was there, or I'd stop at her place after. Then I actually paid attention to the photo and it is seems he's gone and bought himself a fucking Jaguar XF which will probably be about £20,000. I'm driving a £350 wreck after he helped drive my old car into the ground. I was livid. I messaged a social media friend, spoke on the phone to my work friend on maternity leave for an hour. Went to bed and I'm ashamed to say internet and facebook stalked them until at least 2am.
I'd done it all before, when I first came across this woman around 6 months ago. I stalked her, her children, husband, business, its shameful.
The thing is I don't really care. He could come knocking on my door begging me and I'd 100% tell him to fuck off. What is enraging me is that he's carrying on as though nothing has happened, like he's not guilty of a heinous crime. She's brazenly facebooking him. They should be miserable and unhappy and riddled with guilt. That is what is really fucking me off.
I've just looked at some past diary entries to see if I can find when I first thought it was her. I skimmed through days 150 to 180. Wow. It was hard reading. The pain I was in, the death of my Ronnie dog, the phone calls from him and messages about how he missed me, Christmas.
What a horrible horrible person he is.
To have come through that and be relatively sane is an achievemen and makes me realise that I am a million times better than him or his 80's mousse/scrunch perm job grab a granny. I was jealous of his car, him being happy but I have alot more than him.
I have my values. I am getting my self respect back, I have my animals. He abandoned them, hasn't looked out for them at all. Just relinquished any responsibility and ran away like the disgusting loser that he is.
I am better than him. I am happier without him.
I still need might key that car though.