My ex husband. Worse than cancer. If only I could have an Ex-stectomy and radiate the shit out of him.
And rebuild him with a fake ex. Even if it were just a mannequin, it would be smarter.
In other news... I still have cancer. And I'm tired and try to stay as upbeat as I can. But the ex husband... boy, he really screws all that up. And he knows he does. It's what he does best. Trying to make others more miserable than he is.
Om. 4 agreements. I am rubber, he is glue. Other shit.
Glass of wine and book. I have to get up in 7 hours. But something tells me I won't sleep. I know, I need to take care of myself. About that Ex-stectomy...
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