I did respond to my beastly wife’s best friend’s text the next afternoon. I waited to get a clear head and get myself, and my girls settled as best as I could. Being back at your parents’ house at the age of 33 made me feel like the biggest asshole.

     I answered back the text with a calm and cool head. I said something along the lines of telling her to check with her friend. She too had been having an affair and that this is not totally my fault. The text went away and once it was gone, I thought maybe she would be gone with it.

     But I was wrong. This WAS a friend of the beast I married. They don’t go away easily. This best friend of hers was someone I had always been infatuated with, though. I had always thought she was a little hottie. I never did express these words to her, though, for fear of getting my head cut off by my beast wife at the time.

     But her friend was always in the picture through the whole marriage. From the day I met this wife, throughout the entire honeymoon, to every single day of normal living, they were always on the phone. This friend knew everything about me.

     She knew about my bad habits, what I was doing, when I was doing it, and where. The phone calls were constant as if they lived together, but not physically, but through a telephone.

     I on the other hand knew everything about her too. Our common bond, the beast, never could keep her mouth shut. I heard details I didn’t wanna hear about everyone, and vise versa.

     So as I had sent that message, I got a response back from the friend. It was way more calm and with zero bite in it opposed to the previous one she sent. I felt we had a connection forming, a friendship.

     I would go over to the beast wife house 2 more times in the week after I had moved out. When I went back the first time, I had picked up all my clothes, she had her best friend over, too. I was there to get my things and for some dumb reason, I asked her to take me back!

     I wanted back as a way for not getting divorced again. I wanted no part of it. I started to get dillusional into thinking I would be happy. It became a thing, for me, to keep the status, but spare the sanity and happiness I so had been longing for during the duration of the marriage.

     We all sat in her livingroom shooting the breeze and then I started to put the things I came for, into my jeep. On one of my trips out, I went with her friend. It was a cold, brisk, February night in 2006, and she mentioned to me that I would be staying here tonight.

     I laughed and said no way. She mentioned that I was trying to work it out and that if I tried, I would be able to stay. That was a good moment to have, because as she drove away, I stood there and stared at her tail lights and thought no way in hell!

     I had a mission to complete. I had just started it, the biggest part was done. I had made the escape. My beastly wife had also been playing with the emotions of not only myself, but of the dad of her youngest kid and the guy she was having the affair with.

     She had a good time juggling all these guys around who wanted her. It was actually annoying to me that I was in such a trap of making this thing happy.

     I was not going to be a pawn in her little game she calls life anymore. I went back in and got the rest of my clothes and other small things. I told her I would be back that weekend to get my tools, my truck that I was trying to restore, and other things in the garage, when I had more vehicles and help.

     I left that night and drove back to my dad’s house. I stopped on the way to get a six pack of beer and began drinking. I began drinking the most I had ever drank in my life that night.

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