After I got the crazy ass email from Fucker the Psychopath, I went numb.  I literally had NO idea how to react.  I just sat in my office with the door closed in complete awe of my shitty situation.  Really?  I had to go through a year of recovering from all of the awful side effects you get from a brain aneurysm and four brain surgeries? I had to get used to the idea of a pipe in my head.. one that I can feel around my neck and down my chest?  And then, don’t even start about the eye surgery.  I mean, even today after an entire year of recovery, my eye still flickers in bright fluorescent light.  The recovery feels like it will NEVER EVER end.  I hate it.  Last night I went to a taping of Andy Cohen’s Watch What Happens Live.  When Andy saw me and recognized me as Snoopy Melissa, he looked at me and sort of sighed.  Like “Oh, it’s brain aneurysm Melissa!”…  Don’t get me wrong — it wasn’t mean — it was incredibly nice of him — I just was struck at his “Oh there’s poor Melissa” look when he saw me.  Maybe I’m imagining it or being paranoid.  That’s definitely possible.  

So back to the day of the Fucker’s email.  October 24, 2013.  I get the email (as posted previously),  and I’m in stone cold shock.  I’m jet lagged like a mother fucker from my two week trip to China and Japan.  I’m a mess.  And I read this crazy ass email that this Fucker basically FUCKED me over for I’m not even sure how long. Let alone all the other people (like his WIFE) that he also fucked over.   

Not knowing what to do, I called Cris of course.  I rarely call Cris, but I needed to talk to him.  We both hate talking on the phone — so for me to actually pick up the phone and call him, was a HUGE deal.  Luckily, he picked up.  

This is all paraphrased of course — but this is what I generally remember we said.  Me, “He’s married.”  Cris.  “WHAT?  WHO?”…  Me.  “XXXXXX (Fucker)”…  Cris, “WHA???? WHa????  WHATTTTTT?  Are you sure?  How do you know? What?  I’m confused.  How could that be true? WHAT????”  Me.  “I’m in total shock.  I don’t know what to do.  I’m  at work.  I’m in my office. I can’t move.”  Cris “WHAT??????????????” 

It was just un-fucking-believable.  Unbelievable.  After showing the Fucker’s email to a select few in my office, I realized pretty quickly that I wanted everyone to know. That Fucker pretty much fucked me over royally for how many fucking years???… I was NOT going to sit quietly — because of course that’s what he would want me to do.  Accept his bullshit and walk quietly into the night as the piece of trash that I was to him.

So I started emailing.  I emailed ALL of my friends.  I emailed all of my work friends. I emailed everyone.  Fucker works in a similar work field as me — so I knew my emailing might cross over with some of his contacts — but I did not care.  He was and is such an asshole who clearly did not care about me in the slightest.  Why should I care about him at this point?

Then, my awesome friend Liz texted me (after reading my email that I sent her about the Fucker) that she was coming to get me.  Liz — my amazingly supportive and totally cool friend — hopped in a cab to come get me in my office.  As soon as she arrived,  we took the time to email the Fucker and his wife a message about who I am.  The truth. Who knows what he had said to her or everyone else in his life? Most likely lies I’ve since discovered.  I wanted her to at least know I am not a whore slut who just met him.  We were together in a relationship for more than 12 years.  As embarrassing as it is to admit now that I know who he is, I truly thought I loved him.

After we sent that email, Liz and I then promptly took a cab to meet Cris at his restaurant, Swine.  MANY friends agreed to meet us there.  The evening was a long, collective FUCK YOU to the Fucker..  Almost everyone in the place hated and cursed him en masse. Everyone knew his name – but not in a nice Cheers sort of way.  

Fast forward.  Here’s a list of all the dumb things I have done after finding out the truth about Fucker.

1.  I got wasted at Swine that first night and left the Fucker a Fuck You voicemail.

2.  I lost my keys and had to go and sleep at Cris and Brian’s apartment, all in the middle of the night.

3.  I sent Fucker many emails telling him that I hate him and want an apology. It’s really mortifying–  my behavior — but I really do hate him and want some sort of resolution — of which I know I won’t get.

4.  I have sent Fucker’s family and friends messages trying to explain myself. 

Only one of Fucker’s friends ever responded (nicely), one not as nice…but he was misinformed and thought I actually knew Fucker was married…Fucker must have lied to him. No family contacted me, making me once again feel mortified and humiliated by how little I ranked in his life.    

5.  There’s probably more bad things that I’ve done.  I really hit the rock of bottom. Or the bottom of the rock as they say.

Fucker did contact me two more times after his disgusting and cowardly email.  He called me to tell me that he was checking himself into a mental “facility”…  (Like I give a shit about his mental wellness.)  He also called me to ask me not to tell anyone in our line of work about what happened because he didn’t want his wife’s reputation to be ruined.  As if I owed him ANY favors. And as if my reputation or feelings weren’t my priority at the time.  Once again, absolutely NO care at all about ME.  Just about him.  The second call was just the icing on a psychotic piece of cake that he baked just for me. 

There’s more.  I’ve since been tested for STDs….  (I’m fine.)  I’ve also done everything I can to help myself out of this shitty situation.  One of which was to start a blog — and go to hot weirdo yoga as much as possible, while at the same time spending as much time possible with my friends and cats.

One crazy ass rant.  My apologies.  But Fucker is a Fucker!!!!

NAMASTE!!!!