I'm sorry that I mistook your love of avoiding personal responsibility for love for a few months from 2012-2013. I'm glad that I never met you. I don't think that anyone who knows what really happened can say that I didn't try to discourage you from divorce.
What are you going to do now? Sit in your new house and drink, watch TV, have flings and torture me with your friends? You felt that marriage and present fatherhood were impediments to what you think is the more glamorous lifestyle for which you are destined?
Are you going to try to batter and/or coax me into dating you until you realize that it's really true that I'd rather be dead than have you lay a hand on me, while your wife moves on with her life?
Sometimes I want to know what you're doing in case it seems as if I need to publish a page like this. I don't know if you hack my phone every day and so you know when I search your name online every few months or whenever it is, or if you use online analytics and know that I've read your social media because you know what my phone number is. Both are illegal because you shouldn't hack my phone and you only know my phone number because you have illegally invaded my privacy in some other way.
I suppose that you and the conglomerate will exploit this page; you'll exploit it for publicity that you don't need, and the conglomerate will exploit it to call me a slut, and you'll both try to say that my rejecting you yet again, which I've done without fail and without any inconsistency for years, is actually an invitation for you to hit on me. I feel that my hatred of you and of the conglomerate is not without cause, but 7 years of my writing about a lot of things every day doesn't seem to have helped either of you want to stop living in denial about anything you do that's wrong.
Copyright L. Kochman, June 16, 2017 @ 5:20 p.m.
