Dear Julie...
I use the word 'dear' in its financial sense, as for the ten years we were together you contributed about as much to our joint wages as a dripping tap does to the Atlantic.
Moving in with me is not a way of escaping from the parental home. Yes, your dad was an asshole but he did care for you in his own way.
And hiding my mail (this was pre computers) because I had several female pen-pals is not a way to make better of you when I find out.
Providing sex on tap does not excuse you still being in bed mid afternoon when I've been up since 4am, walked two miles to Brighton Station, done a full shift at Victoria Station, travelled home, and then being greeted with "What are you going to cook for me?"
When we've discussed the fact that we haven't even had a false alarm, and you claim the hospital has given your reproductive system the okay, I don't expect to get a phone call at work asking if you can screw one of our friends (who's fathered kids) just because my first test result has come back negative. And when the second says "Wow, you've got so many of the little swimmers its great" I expect you to go back to the hospital for tests, not start screwing someone else.
White chocolate still contains sugar, saying it doesn't is the reason your diabetes got worse.
If I ask for a Stephen King book for my birthday, I don't expect on the day to be told that my treat is to video you and your new boyfriend screwing. And when I laugh as he cums after 30 seconds, I think that's poetic justice.
When we both knew it was over, and you're planning on your boyfriend moving in, I don't expect you to act like a petulant child if I'm talking on the phone to a platonic friend who's offered to let me move in with her.
And five years after we've split up, when you've had a four year lesbian affair when men were anathema to you and then gone straight into a heterosexual relationship, I don't expect you to ring me 20 times a day (just letting it ring once so I think I've missed your call) especially if I do answer it and say I'm busy or at work.
I don't miss you, the sex life you said would never be so good IS BETTER, even your relatives can't stand you, God I'm so glad you're out of my life.
Be warm, safe, and happy, but nowhere near me.
Paof2
(paof2 Nude might not be rude, but rude could be nude..., Tue 9 Mar 2010, 19:04, 3 replies)

wow i can so relate to your story.
Mainly the, staying in bed till gone midday, then coming home and saying "what are you going to cook me"

My ex had her fat american lesbian friend over for 6 months and spent all day shagging her whilst i was out at work paying the bills. Then she'd fuck off to America for 3 months (as long as visa waiver would allow) for a big jollyday then come back expecting to just carry on as before.

End of the day, its us that let em walk all over us, and if we do that, they will. Women are users. We can screw a girl for half an hour, but in the end they can screw us for life. After she finally sodded off with someone else, I ended up moving back with parents for a year to recover from a £10k debt she left me with. Whilst she was enjoying 3 holidays abroad a year with the next mug.

No I dont miss her either. But I love the fact I'm very friendly with most of her family still who now know all her dirty secrets LOL
(Miggyman, Tue 9 Mar 2010, 19:50, closed)

debts...
We started to buy a flat, overpriced at £36,000 about two years before we split up.
When I left her new Boyfriend was supposed to be paying the mortgage.
Three years later, just after my mother had died and when I'd moved back to look after my father, I got a phone call from a debt agency (who she'd told where I was) for payment of almost £35,000. It turned out neither of them had ever paid a penny, and her story of selling it on when she moved and paying the mortgage off was bullshit.
Luckily the guy from the debt agency was decent, split it so she had to pay half, and gave me time to sort it out because of my dads illness.
Less than five weeks later my dad died.
I rang the guy, asked him if he'd accept a lump sum of £8,000 from the £16,000 I was getting from the sale of my parents home, and he said yes.
She had come to an arrangement with him to pay £30 a month.
It cost me half my inheritance, but that was the end of it. She'll be paying that until the end of her life.
(paof2 Nude might not be rude, but rude could be nude..., Tue 9 Mar 2010, 21:20, closed)

White chocolate still contains sugar, saying it doesn't is the reason your diabetes got worse.

Im so sorry you had to live through that.
(Surfeit, Wed 10 Mar 2010, 17:23, closed)