Well, well, well. Where should I start? I guess I could start at the beginning — that’s always a good place. But why rehash all that? Instead, I’m going to tell you exactly what this feels like — something you should already know since your ex did it to you. But I digress…

This feels like hell.

Not the type of hell you read about in Dante’s Inferno, the one in which claws are ripping off pieces of flesh, but something deeper. Honestly, I’d rather have my skin peeled off my back than have to feel this. This pain and betrayal sits in the very core of my being. It’s like a rotting corpse of our future together that was brutally murdered by you and your actions. It’s foul. It’s a stench for which I have no words. And, unlike you, who have moved on to a girl 27 years your junior, I’m stuck with this. I have to live with this, knowing that the one person I trusted completely and fully not only betrayed me, but forever destroyed the trust I will place in others. How am I supposed to ever believe in anyone again? Oh, wait; you don’t care.

I am not a perfect person.

I was not a perfect wife. I was impatient. I had expectations for you that you couldn’t fulfill and maybe that was wrong of me. I’ve realized it’s counterproductive to want something for someone you love when they clearly don’t want it for themselves. It creates turmoil and rage, but it’s nothing compared to the turmoil and rage I feel now.

From a realistic perspective, I get it.

I understand why you’d cheat on me with someone so much younger. Unlike myself, she has yet to be jaded by life. When she looks at you, she sees something I don’t. She sees beauty in the novelty of you being a struggling musician; it’s something she can write in her diary in silly stanzas that only make sense to a girl of 21, while she equates herself to all the French poets who came before her and were far superior.

But where she sees beauty, I see nothing.

I see emptiness, failure, and cruelty. I see a man not strong enough to woman-up and let me go properly. I see a man, if we can even call you that, who not only ghosted me, but during this ghosting period, you were screwing a girl just a couple years older than your own daughter. Pervert is a word that comes to mind, if I were to be honest.

Truth be told, I have been cheated on before by inconsequential boys in my past.

Boys I never loved, but dated only briefly until we both realized it we didn’t make much sense. However, in this case, you dared to walk down the aisle and marry me. You dared to announce in front of our friends and family that you loved me with everything you had and would love me for “as long as we both shall live.” I guess there was something lost in translation. I guess we wanted different things. I wanted a partner and you wanted a groupie. I stopped being a groupie a long time ago.

I want to tell you that you are the most selfish person I know, and this is coming from a very selfish person.

I had once set you high on a pedestal, as someone above the human mistakes that other men seem to make, but you proved me wrong and I was forced to take away that pedestal. You’ll never be that high up in someone’s eyes again; not even the girl you’ve chosen to take my place.

But the best part about this is now I know.

I know that people can’t be counted on, no matter what they say. That there is no one who is above human indiscretions, and that you are, for lack of more eloquent wording, a jerk. I would have never done this to you, and you know it.

So off I go now into the world.

I have trips planned, places to go and new people to meet. I won’t just survive you, but I’ll thrive and flourish. I’ll do all the things I said I’d do, while you will remain stagnant, unable to rise above your mediocrity. But still, at this moment, it all feels like hell. I wouldn’t even wish this pain on you.

Best,

Amanda

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