My Final Letter to an Ex-husband

I finally figured the timeline between your mother’s passing and the money you inherited from her.  You got that $2 million dollars somewhere between our separation and our divorce. And you had the nerve to cry to me for years about how broke you were, how suicidal you felt, and how hard you had to work to make your monthly $1200 child support.

You saw me work night and day to raise those kids while we lived in that rundown house you deeded to me, a house you immediately took a credit line against, further crippling me financially. When I sold the place, I didn’t even have money to pay off the credit cards I had used to pay the kids’ expenses. Even when I lost my roof after Hurricane Charley, all I had was the $3,000 in insurance claim money, which made it difficult to hire a decent contractor.
  

I really didn’t know you had inherited your mother’s money when you did (I thought all those big-money purchases you made, like the engine, were a side business between your dad and you). You mentioned your inheritance in passing several years after our divorce.  What I remember was how you constantly repeated to me, during my search for a divorce attorney, that I wasn’t entitled to inheritance even though I didn’t not know what inheritance you were referring to. I hired that schmuck of an attorney on the beach to give us a quickie divorce because I wanted to keep the peace between you, the children, and myself.

My biggest regret was letting you expose the kids to all those horrible women you dated, using them as bait to lure whatever woman you were after.  You never even had the sense to keep the kids away from your fucking mess of a love life-- and you still don’t.  You are the most disrespectful men I’ve ever known. 

And, every time I went down to Florida for Christmas you disrespected me by staying in the house, even though you promised you would find other arrangements. And this was yet another ploy to keep your “women” playing into your sick game of pitting them against each other--as if you were the prize.

All these years, I’ve taken your chump change because I needed it, but I hope you know that your money can’t buy the integrity, morals, and decency you’ve never had--and will never have.  You are NOT a nice guy. You only con people into believing that nice guy act.    

I also regret being your stupid victim all these years.  I never saw the truth of your motives because I always kept an allegiance to the memory of our being together so young, and because I was grateful for what you did for me, like paying of my school loan and helping my family.  But, really, the only decent person in your immediate family was your mother. 

Anyway, you think you’re bad, motherfucker, just know that karma is a worse motherfucker than you can ever be. 

We are done.  Call or contact me only if it regards the children.