the last fuck you.

so yesterday was an interesting day… a weasel… weaseled her way into my home… without permission… using keys that were no longer hers to use… assuming no one would be home… finding my daughter coming out of the shower… offering lies of me giving her permission to be there… to retrieve the last of her things… to avoid having to pay for outstanding living expenses…

it was her last slap in the face to me… her last FUCK YOU VANESSA… her last of biting the hand that fed and housed her… it was the LAST.

its okay though… I am making peace with it… the good person that I am had everything in one place… freshly washed… waiting for an even exchange of things to take place…

The audacity of her to come into my home… without my knowledge or consent… to roam through my rooms… into MY bedroom… and through MY drawers… what a violation… but am I really shocked at her actions… no… she had shown me her potentially trifling ways many times… it’s my fault really… I chose to see the good and ignore the bad… I chose to believe that I was not being taken advantage of… but there was always one thing I could count on… her being consistently inconsistent…

But I am noticing a new pattern… #she… was there for me yet again yesterday… she has this way… of offering herself… her support… its perfect… and makes me feel a sense of security… that I havent felt before… I am always holding myself together… because I know if I fall… there’s never anyone there to catch me… and that feels different now…

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