Well. This was a momentous week. I had a crazy ass work schedule — was on some fun television show sets, promoted some major ESPN worthy stuff, and lots of other things that I will get to later when I can.

I also finally discovered the timeline of when Fucker actually got engaged and married thanks to some poor soul’s open Facebook page. When I think of ignorant people who unknowingly have open Facebook pages, I think of Nene Leakes from the Real Housewives of Atlanta. Nene Leakes said on “Watch What Happens Live” to her on and off again friend Kim who is always getting prego, “Close your legs to married men. Close your legs to married men. Close your legs to married men.” It’s that simple. That’s what I think of you all who are unaware you have open Facebook pages. “Close your photos to outsiders. Close your photos to outsiders. Close your photos to outsiders.” Anyway, I lucked out — and now I know more details.

Fucker got engaged about a month before my brain exploded. He got married during my recovery, right before Hurricane Sandy. During this entire time, he was also very much involved with me. Not always good — but very involved. And it wasn’t always G rated. As I looked back on time stamps of photos and the emails and correspondence we were having, it was even more fucked up than I ever could have imagined.

What’s even more crazy, is it seems as though his Psychopathic abilities has managed to “save” his marriage. He is either a perfect liar (still) or his wife is that desperate to stay with someone as sick and fucked up as him. And their families remain behind him. I guess that’s what families are for, right? Loyalty to the end? They even stand behind big green trolls who fart and have warts? I’m sure he has also managed to paint me in the light that true psychopaths do to their victims. I’m the awful, fucked up one. I’m the one who treated him terribly. I’m the crazy one. I know — that’s to be expected. That’s what these evil liars do.

I myself would punch or slap Fucker if I saw him again. Not stand at the top of a hill with my arms around him in solidarity like we were the kings of the world and our love was “true”… It’s not.  Trust me.  He is a liar.  He is truly undeserving of any pity — or any forgiveness.

Wow. Another day, another trauma. Anyway — alls well that ends well. I’m not a green troll named Shrek! I’m Melissa, and I have a lot of work to do today!

Moving on to my happily ever after!