...is that you feel all the damage they caused.
They feel nothing.
I bet you [a lot] that he barely thinks of me, if at all.
So I get angry that I am still dealing with the aftermath. Almost 5 years later.
And then I pray for God to bring justice to the situation.
In a way, He has, of course. I'm so happy now. I'm living, and I am myself.
He is still a sociopath.
And then I pray for him because I can only imagine how lonely he is.
He'd never admit that. He's way too busy buying everything he can, chasing down the next thing, whether it's technology in some form, another frickin' car or hmm *another wife*
Me? I'm happy as a clam at high tide...despite dealing with his b.s. I am full of God's joy.
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