I am sooooo angry. Omg... Maybe I have been holding in a lot more than I imagined. I just saw ding-dong xh. In the last couple months I have only seen him from afar, a couple time at d13 games for a sec.
He is taking kids to a preseason football game today. They finally decided to do something w him, and yes I encouraged. But I was not prepared to see him myself, I guess.
H pulled in & honked his horn. S was talking to him for a bit whe d finished getting ready. I needed to leave- well wanted to. H was behind my car. I went out to say bye to s. He walked to me & gave me a hug & handed me mail that went to xh house. S said, "He opened it again. I told him to stop and that it's a felony and none of his business." I love that kid!
I motioned for xh to move out of the way w/o really looking at him, then got into my car. He moved and we were I. The road facing eachothr driving off. This sounds do immature, but I just felt rage. He looked at me the whole time, but he was stone faced. I sped away. I tried to maintain composure but I HATE HIM! I am so freaking mad at him! I don't even know what to do or how to act around him. He has another f'ing family- omg it is so weird and f'ed up. Gggrrrrrrr!
I didn't even know where i was going. I just knew I was looking good and wanted to show him. What is wrong with me? Probably didn't look so cool driving off. I drover for about 30 min and now I am in a parkinglot typing this on my phone. My friend who I usually do things w is taking her d to college today.
Why do I feel so much hate towards him? I am not a hateful person, but damn! Well, the bright side.... D13 had a slumber party at a friends last night. I had to pick her up at 7:15 for practice. She really didn't get any sleep. She is the crabbiest kid when she doesn't sleep. Well, daddy-o, welcome to reality. Have fun with her tonight! And s17 sprained his ankle at football practice this morning and is in a lot of pain. Poor kids. Haha xh. I'm so immature (am I in mlc?)
Whew... Venting.... I'm feeling a little better already.
