An open letter to the woman who slept with my husband-

You have blood on your hands.  You’re as guilty as he is.  You believed his lies; so you’re a home wrecker and you’re ignorant.

I despise you.  I wish the worse for you.  I hope he shows you the same disrespect and infidelity he showed me – people don’t change. He’ll show you his true colors, like he did me. You’ll get yours. He’s a monster deep down – you’ll see it soon enough.  Just wait.

You don’t know sisterhood.  You don’t honor sisterhood. You don’t belong in any sisterhood.  You should be voted off the island. Any woman who sleeps with another woman’s husband is worse than scum of the earth.  You are like dried dog shit on my shoe – smelly, messy, regretful and need to be flicked off – washed off and flushed down into the eternal sewers of life.  You’re shameless.

You’re an insult to womanhood.

If I’ve insulted you, mission accomplished.  But, let’s add insult to injury – a week before he signed the lease to live with you, he reached out to me to reconcile.  He wanted to get back together with me. He’s trash, he’s unworthy of my love and trust – he’s broken and I said NO.   The earth is scorched, the bridges burned. He betrayed me and his children in the most meaningful and hurtful way imaginable. Going backwards would be an insult to the universe; an incomprehensible crime I would never commit.  So, great news – you got my leftovers!  Sloppy seconds. So PATHETIC! Choke on it.

Oh but wait, you didn’t know about the other OTHER woman did you?  Yes, there was ANOTHER woman stringing on to this sick soap opera we collectively call life.  While he was fucking you he was fucking her too!  And – trying to reconcile with me!  What a mess.  And guess what – you’re smack in the epicenter, with blinders on – blinded by the pearly white smile he flashes to be impressive.

He’s only with you because he can’t be alone.  He admits that.  You truly are a consolation prize.  I almost feel sorry for you, almost.

Count on Karma.

You may feel like a winner.  For now, you have the prize – my EX.  Here are his little dark secrets that will haunt you in the future – look into this crystal ball my ugly sister – he’s a textbook narcissist with a small penis and erectile dysfunction to boot!  Did you know without his weekly T-shots and viagra his most precious, vital organ is comatose?

On top of that ‘little’ challenge, he’ll only love you as long as you give him what he needs:  sex, eye candy, to be the center of your universe, party-all-the-time behavior and zero accountability. Don’t dig too deep sister, you won’t like what you find. In the oil business they call it a ‘dry hole’; after years of projections, investment, big talk and high hopes – nothing.  Empty.  No black gold – or pot of gold.  Just emptiness.  An empty suit. Hollow man.  Now, your man.

Mama used to say karma’s a bitch…I’m counting on it.

Disrespectfully Yours,

Kirby.