I am so angry. Angry at him for ghosting me, for gaslighting me for turning me into this mess of a woman.

I am angry at me for allowing it.

I am angry at my parents for the abandonment issues that created someone who would allow it.

I am angry at my adult children for expecting me to heal overnight and being fed up with my emotions – and then angry at myself again for my resentment.

I am angry that I still love him, I am angry that I have to keep a list next to my bed reminding me of all the truly fucked up things he put me through.

I am angry that I even still think of him, because I can assure you He Gives No Fucks About Me.