My ex is a lying, cheating, puddle of slut-scum that isn’t worth the energy, but somehow it still hurts to look at her. Not because I miss her. Fuck no. It hurts because she’s proof of how weak a man can become. Years spent building a future with this piece of garbage. Jesus, the plans that were made—Forsyth, complementing careers, an engagement at graduation, a destination wedding, investment property, three children. Looking back at the way I’d greet her everyday like a lapdog, with a coffee and a flower. The sex we’d have, always fast and hard and so intense that it’d leave me sapped but
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