A Letter To My Friend’s Ex-Husband


Hey tough guy,

You’ve taken divorce to a whole new level. You’re like category 5 hurricane.

You were calm at first.  I sensed your danger, but kept my feelings close. She was good at hiding your storm, her radiant sun to your dark clouds. A battle of good versus evil right under my nose.  I should have known your winds of narcissism would eventually destroy everything meaningful in her life. One by one, you shattered all that intimidated you.   First it was her job, then her friends, and finally her family. Your last blow was her home. Your home. Her safe place.  The place where she loved you, supported your dreams and raised your family. But here you are. Your wind howling, shaking the windows of the home you shared.   Torrential hail pounding from every direction and still you don’t care. Hurricanes don’t have feelings do they? They don’t feel shame or guilt or remorse.  Their ultimate goal is to gain power and destroy.  And finally when enough damage is done, they move on.

And boy have you moved on!  Do I need to call out how foolish and cliche you look? Sports car? The 24 year old live-in girlfriend? What’s next? Jump out of an airplane? A few tattoos? How about a motorcycle?

Just stop it already. It’s silly.  This divorce was your fault. You hurt her and your kids. You betrayed them, you lied to them, and quite frankly embarrassed them.  And I’m pissed.

I’m her friend so I can say these things.

Screw you for making her cry to the point of exhaustion.

Screw you for making her feel less than the wonderful, generous human being that she is.

Screw you for making her question every decision she’s ever made in her life.

Screw you for making her worry about money… (BTW, we all know she was the real talent of that operation).

Screw you for making her pretend everything was normal when you were secretly kicking and smashing her face in.

Screw you for bragging about fucking other women.

Screw you for leaving her with a busted up house that she has to fix.

Screw you letting her believe you were EVER the man she thought you were.

I hate that you are allowed to even share space and oxygen with her. I hate that she has to find a happy place just so she can stay calm at basketball games, school functions, and assemblies. I hate that she has to help your children understand and process their own anger, sadness and frustration at the carnage you’ve left.

So, while you are enjoying your new McMansion and buying your kids affection, I hope you think about this.  She is better than you. She’s always been better than you.  No matter how many times you call her a c**t, or tell her she’s fat when dropping off the kids, she will still be better than you.  She is smarter than you. She’s going to be more successful than you. And, she will definitely be happier without you.

You are a fucking loser and I hope you get a flat tire.

Love, Me


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