Sometimes I feel like a cauldron

I was reading a friend’s blog (and once I figure out how to link her blog to mine, you should go read her, too.  Awesome writer!) and she was talking about how it hit her all of the sudden, out of the blue, and caused her day to go to hell in a handbasket at warp speed.

I get that completely.  Today it hit me all of the sudden.  But it wasn’t sadness, it wasn’t tears.

It was hate.

I woke up this morning perfectly refreshed (thank you, Ambien) and went downstairs for my morning ritual of caffeine and a cigarette (I know, smoking is bad for you and I’m signed up for the smoking cessation class in a couple of weeks).  Let the dog out so she can go potty, turn on the light in the frog tank, check the ferrets water levels.

As I walked back upstairs to get the book I’m currently reading, I walked past the guest bathroom where he was taking a shower.  And I was filled with absolute hatred toward him.

Not hurt. Hate.

I really, really hate him this morning. I feel like a bubbling cauldron of hate.  It’s just boiling and boiling and boiling and today it boiled over.

I hate what he has done to me, to our marriage, to our family, to our plans.  I hate that he is so f*cking selfish, that he is going to throw away 16 years of marriage and history for some stupid little bitch that he knew 20 years ago.

I hate him today.

No, I shouldn’t hate anyone other than, say, Hitler or Stalin or someone really, really bad.  But this blog is about honesty.  It’s about writing about what is in me and what I feel.  Whether you, dear reader, ever go through something like this or not, I’ll always be honest with you.

And today, that honesty includes hatred.

I hate everything about him.  I hate how he chomps his gum, I hate how he dresses, I hate how he walks.  I hate how he ignores me.  I hate it all.  Makes me look up to these ladies (especially the first one!):

Not that I’m gonna kill my husband.  Not at all.  There’s no way I could do that.

But a girl can dream, right?

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