Thanks, bro!Walkinghairball wrote:I'll call the shitbag tomorrow Pan.
The saga continues! Diane sent Sam this email:
Sam,
I did receive your emails and texts a few weeks ago. To be honest, I wasn't shocked at all by what you told me. I expected exactly what you said happened to happen and it all came down right on schedule. I gave it until the holidays. And, well...
At first I didn't like the way we ended things. But there were too many lies and too much hurt was put on me, and I am not up for that anymore. I've had a lot of time to think of everything that I thought was between us, everything that happened, to make sense of it all, to see how it really was. It wasn't real, it wasn't true. I've accepted the ending of what began as a very good friendship, would never grow, and would never last. And I'm okay with it all.
As far as me and my life now - things are good, really good. My life is finally the way I'd always dreamed it would be, the way I deserve it to be. I'm happy, healthy, doing very well for myself.
Take care of yourself,
Diane
Seems pretty nice, right? Well, dirtbag just sent her this reply!
Can you believe his nonsense??? 
I'll bold some of his more ridiculous statements. Diane,
Well, to paraphrase part of what I had written you...I know that you believe your take on things concerning Carla is the correct one (more than ever now), but in spite of that there is far more complexity to it than anything you ever described before or since. In short--no, your take's not correct, because it's simply not that simple. I don't mind whatsoever saying you were partly correct, to whatever extent, since I already knew I was taking a risk anyway before I did what I did and before I departed; however, what has transpired is not about "c**tfaces" nor "puppets" nor the accusations of mindsets of teenage melodramas; though it is about other cracks and fissures in the human soul.
I am currently (very temporarily) visiting Tara (another of his internet women) down in Jacksonville. This visitation is at her request. From here I head to wherever I choose to go.
I figured, upon a little reflection, that you were waiting for the holiday season to come, or go, or both--which is the very reason why I made the effort to write you again after my initial foray and subsequent follow-up in which I said I wouldn't follow up ever again.
Well, all I can say to your reply, so long in coming but coming at the expected time, is: if what you're telling me is true (and after all, why would it not be?), then I never did anything wrong at all--furthermore, I acted like a virtual prophet, and was more compassionate about the whole matter than I even needed to be.
Since your life now is so precisely how you always dreamed it ought to be, I did you a huge favour by bowing out--and it doesn't matter how, most especially since I even wrote you a heart-spilling response to your obvious horseshit lies of early September(fickleness is the same as dishonesty). (I think he's referring to the email in which she said she'd never be ready to say goodbye to him--the email she wrote BEFORE he headed off to Minnesota to be with Carla, so he has his dates wrong)
Which means--once again I give to others far, far more than they even think of giving to me.
"Remember the Diane who loved you the only way she knew how." What fucking horseshit! Whether you intended to lie or whether you were fickle, you have proven that you were full of shit about my value to you from the start. "Too many lies," you say? Yes, Diane--too many of your own. Lies earn lies in return, measure for measure. All those smiles of yours you shined in my presence--all were deceit. When I was preparing to leave, and you found the green flannel shirt of mine and held it to your face and let that emphasize your beautiful eyes--what a fucking lie! As was everything else you ever expressed.
I am slow and dense, for I actually believed you at first.
Your so-called "love" for me (even if it turned out to be just friendship) was mere cardboard for feeding that woodstove in the kitchen, and nothing more whatsoever.
In addition to all, you have obviously, sometime since mid-October, said or showed something to Michael (her son) to make him ignore me (and by ramification despise me).
I commend you on adding insult to injury. You're extremely adept at it. You are equally adept at putting the steel walls around your heart.
Yeah, we never had anything real on any level. That's why I took the time to write you as I did. Yeah, that's it.
Your life now is wonderful and paradisaical? You clearly have a magic wand to wave that others don't. Wow. Zippee. God, Diane, you're a paragon for the ages. Tell us how you do it.
... the worst part of all this is that she has kids. If she was alone and wanted all this drama in her life, no problem. But her kids really don't need all this crap in their lives. They need their mom.
