Frankly I am torn between xWH being lost in Italy with a Russian Tart and the tragedy of loss.
I shouldn't say this but there have been times in my sitch when I have been so hurt I want to die,so traumatised I hallucinate his sorry ass.
And there are some times when the whole thing clucks like a Brian Rix farce, you could never make it up. It's unbelievable and no story teller could weave a better tale. Some of the histories here are bad sh1t crazy loco. And my sitch is one.
The damage is enormous and xWH is like the terminator coming at me from all sides whilst hiding in the Italian undergrowth.
An aging lothario with the demeanor of a maggot. A giggalo to a woman who trawls the golf hotels of Europe looking for rich pickings. Close armed and open legged.
And she drew xWH with his pickings from his ex wife which will never come. A prize catch. Two cons conning each other.
This wayward lifestyle ages those who live it. It may not help you now and in due course you will lose your attraction to the destruct wayward in your life.
I swear I find it gut wrenching funny, I belly laugh.
Between the tears.
Bitter sweet and like Sunny I am determined that I will recover and find love again.
V
Freedom is just another word for nothing left to loose. V 64, WAW
