Open Letter To My Husband And His Mistress On His Birthday
Happy 43rd Birthday, Babe! I hope you enjoyed your date. You had to have been looking forward to the weekend. I mean your boo got her hair done and shit. Although, she doesn’t quite get her cejas together like I like but we all have something, right? I am sure she’s a great person. She fucks married men for Christ’s sake. Oh and before I forget- Happy Birthday, Tina! Your dress was cute. Cheap….but cute. But I digress. This is, totally, NOT about her.
Anyway, I didn’t want to interrupt your good time so I waited until now to publish this. You see- even though you are a piece of shit, I am still the dutiful wife until the very end. Papito, I KNOW that you need a minute to digest that this is REALLY happening. Babe, this shit is is going down RIGHT NOW. I’ll give you a few seconds to pick your face up. 1…..2…..3….FUCK OUTTA HERE.
*EDIT*
*I did the honors of approving her tags of you two on your Facebook timeline to ensure that the world would see your new love*
You left them sitting there. That was an oversight, right? *cackling*
You couldn’t tell her NOT to post them but I KNOW that you didn’t want them on YOUR page because after all- “you didn’t have a girlfriend.”
I was helping you live in “your truth”.
Bruh, you look a little nervous in that photo. Were you good? I know how you smile in photos and you weren’t really smiling. But again- your smile isn’t what this is about. I apologize. I am wasting time here. Let me get to the point.
You probably figured that I wouldn’t speak about this publicly because I’d be embarrassed. NOPE. Not even. In fact, this isn’t for you so much as I know there’s a sister out there who is falling apart over her ain’t shit husband and begging for her family to stay together. I’m lying, my nigga. THIS IS , totally, about you as well but I might as well empower some sisters while giving you my ENTIRE ass to kiss.
*Back to you, girl* Chiiiiile, you better make a clean getaway. You will be alright. If you have daughters, you are doing them a huge disservice by staying. We didn’t sign up for this shit. Bueno, I know I didn’t. It was odd that so many of the women I spoke with, thought that I should fight for this fool. Biiiiiiiiiiih, the way my #innernigga is set up. There’s no way that you could fuck first and ask questions later. I AM DITCHING THIS PAYASO AND NOT LOOKING BACK.
I loved you and I was a good wife to you. Fuck that! I was a great wife to you even when you were a mediocre husband. Dios mio! I resigned myself to your punk ass not handling your family as you should have. That was a red flag and because I am a fighter, I took that burden on although folks tried to talk me out of marrying you. What did I know? You were my dude.
Then, you stopped adulting. Like legit stopped taking care of your family and got in your feelings because I said I wasn’t having it. You’re a grown ass man. Bitch, you need to work. I mean you will never be great but shit- be something! I mean our sex life was amazing but you ain’t earning a living off the d. Not here anyway. That tender ass male ego reared its ugly ass head again. You stayed worried about men who I didn’t even talk to anymore. You damn near rolled on the floor throwing a temper tantrum when I told you Dave (my ex) was one of the top 5 most important men in my life. I mean you did at least make the list…albeit you were #5. Tsk tsk tsk.
As you know, these past 6 months have been extremely difficult for Yemi and me. First, we lost Pedro (my stepdad) in September and then at the end of January, Daddy died. Emotionally, we were already struggling but my dad’s death compounded the suffering. I’m still devastated and it is taking everything inside of me to be functional. And my “husband” was nowhere to be found. In fact, while we were grieving- you started getting cozy with this broad and we saw you TWO TIMES. The day you to took us to the airport to go to Detroit to bury my father and when we came back on February 3rd. Your bitch ass even had a date the very next day.
Oh and for the record- my Dad hated you and I didn’t know it. His best friend told me a few days ago. He didn’t think that you were good enough for me and he didn’t think that you deserved Yemi.
Who the fuck raised you? I mean only a narcissistic sociopath starts an affair when his wife’s father dies. You were intentionally trying to hurt me. Well ain’t that fucking rich?
You and The Birthday Girl became “official” on Valentine’s Day (at least according to her). Ay- que lindo! Then, you became Facebook friends. You changed your status to “separated” 2 days before you became her friend. I guess if you are going to be a cheating sack of shit, you’d better look half way official.
Needless to say when I received the screenshot of our “separation”, I was flabbergasted. Like how do you separate from your spouse without a conversation? Not one word. You did this slyly though. And my family watched. You did ask, “Who was I fucking?” and you tried to chastise me about the clothes I was wearing. All while reminding me that I was married. You even gave me sweet little kisses with an ass rub when you left. I played along waiting for this day. I have been holding this shit in for weeks. Woooooooooooooooooooooooooo, my nigga! I’m free! HAHAHA!
I had been falling apart all week because it was approaching the one month anniversary of Daddy’s death. The day I found out you were cheating was February 21. I was bawling and I heard Daddy’s voice and smelled him. He said, “Fuck that nigga and you better not cry! “
Even in death, my Daddy had my back. Instantly, the tears dried. And I haven’t cried for you or the end of our marriage once. I would probably have an orgasm if I could punch you in the face just one good time. Then, I saw you sending well wishes to her kid while you stood your own up 4 times while she’s grieving? YOU HAVE ME FUCKED UP, SIR. Not to be like- Fuck those kids…..but FUCK THOSE KIDS.
So fast forward to this past Tuesday when you came to visit. Again, I don’t wanna ruin your birthday. *sneaky smile* Of course, I want to ruin your birthday. I asked you, directly, did you have a girlfriend and you LIED. Your daughter asked you. YOU LIED. You’re lying to everybody about this girl. She’s only your boo at Janette’s? Well, that must suck. But for why though? We’re done. I know that you like to keep options open but all we needed was a conversation. You are so messy. But you wouldn’t be Albert without mess.
And you and Tuna seem to be a match made in heaven and she’s talking babies ALREADY.. Y’all just started fucking around but she’s doing the absolute most. She’s a little off. That’s weird as fuck but mmmkaaaaay. Good luck with that!
She hasn’t learned you yet. I mean she IS only getting a shell of the man you used to be. You’ve lost so much weight, your skin looks like shit and you drink too much. That, ALWAYS, happens when you are around your play sister. She, literally, sucks out your lifeforce. But hey- that’s not my portion. Let the church say “Amen.”
Oh, have you shown her how insecure you are? I know you swore I slept with every guy friend I had on Facebook. If you haven’t, you will soon. You’re a fuck up. And from those goofy ass memes she keeps posting, I assume that you told her that I was always begging for your money. Everybody knows I’m a hustler de verdad. If she’s heard anything else, we both know it’s a lie. Oh and you don’t want the world to think that you’re a deadbeat on top of being a shitty ass husband and man, do you? I do expect you to run those coins for our daughter. I mean you DO have a fresh pair of J’s my nigga!
I’m the true definition of bad and bourgeois. Bad and bougee for the high school dropouts.
They say death comes in 3’s. I’m officially a widow because you’re dead to me.
You, two, have a blessed and prosperous day! Oh and HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
Signed,
Dragger of Filth formerly known as Your Wife.
Originally published at Negra With Tumbao.
