My insecurities are welcome anywhere I put them

Please don’t use little K’s page to voice your insecurities, he says. 

My insecurities are a direct result of how you acted while we were together. My heart is fucking broken and it has been for a long time. I don’t want to be with you because you broke my heart K.  And when I told you how you broke it, you got mad at me, you justified your bad behaviour over and over and over again instead of saying sorry and refraining from doing it again. You just kept doing it.

So don’t say that to me.  This isn’t Little K’s page. It’s my phone that I was nice enough to set up for you to send messages to.

My heart is broken.

You left. It’s not my job to translate your messages and pictures for little K but I do even though it fucking sucks to see pictures of you every day. So have a little compassion instead of talking to me about my insecurities.

You made me worry so much when I was pregnant that I was sent to the hospital.

You made me worry so much when you were traveling alone before that I started to get an ulcer.

So I’m sorry that what you are choosing to do is bringing up old shit that has never been properly dealt with.

I’m also so important to you that you forgot that I was sent to the hospital.

They had to give me Ativan so I could sleep.  That’s how much I worried about my heart and what you were going to do with it. But you weren’t there. You didn’t experience these things, I did.

Funny how after all of those things, when I told you how I felt, you scoffed at me…telling me I was weak.

Funny how when I tried and tried again to tell you when things bothered me, and how some of your inappropriate behaviours made me feel, instead of listening and comforting me, you got angry.

So I’m sorry. I’m sorry that my heart is broken and that shit is coming to the surface when you choose to travel on your own.

You are welcome for taking videos, making you a birthday gift from Little K, showing your pictures, and taking amazing care of our son so you can cavort. You are welcome.

And you can show your thankfulness by having a little compassion about the shit that is being brought to my surface, by not saying…this isn’t a place for your insecurities.

Do you think that I want to see 20 pictures of you before Little K and I go to bed? No, but I do it for him. 

So, just think about what you say next time.  My insecurities are welcome every fucking where I put them.

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