I can't stay here. I have to leave and go somewhere. I don't feel safe.
My forcer friend, Teresa, who continuously deceived me all those many months with no remorse is a customer of the dope dealer next door, and still deceptive and devious. She can slip past my bedroom window if the shade is down. It's fun.
I can t tell you how painful and frightening it is for me. Knowing, or even suspecting, that she's here brings back all the broken heart and feeling of humiliation and unimportance.
Last night she met him in the car in the parking lot underneath my window to avoid seeing me. She doesn't care. I almost walked out there just to catch a glimps of her, but I thought it might frighten her, so I didn't. Why should I love and care so much for her. There are those who tell me she's not worth it. Perhaps they're right. New wine must be put into new bottles.
I never judged her for her interest in drugs, I only judged her for deceiving me. But when you are an attractive woman in your thirties it seems drugs are more important than an old man's heart.
It's killing me.