Bweh

You know what sucks?  When you don't rise to a level of importance that warrants more than an "I'm sorry" text message. 

That's what I got for Valentine's Day. 

Let me clarify.  I got beautiful flowers from my brother and a gorgeous rose from my dad.   The bullshit text is what I got from my dumbass, douche canoe of a husband.  And that text?  Way worse than just keeping his mouth shut or forgetting.  Why?  Because in stating his acknowledgement that this is the worst Valentine's Day ever he pretty much threw up the don't-give-a-fuck flag of who-gives-a-fuck, and that?  That hurts.

It hurts beyond belief.

We went to dinner with my parents on Saturday for Valentine's Day.  He forgot the stuff he was planning on giving me, and instead of taking one fucking hour out of his precious day yesterday to make me feel somewhat special on the one day a year you're supposed to do just that, he said he'll just give it to me Sunday--after he started with that bullshit text of it being the worst Valentine's ever.

If you know me at all, I don't ask for a lot, I don't expect a lot, and I sure as shit let the majority of shit slide, but this is the finest bullshit apathy can buy.  Period.

Don't get me wrong.  I don't care about the lack of gifts or anything of the sort.  It's the vehement disregard he has shown for me, and coincidentally our daughter, once again and I'm to the point where I don't want to keep sucking it up.  He had no problems taking the time to text his fucking family a picture of our daughter (the one below) for Valentine's Day to make them happy--why don't I get that same fucking courtesy?  WHY?!  Why am I never worth it?  In his words, it took two seconds to text them a picture.  So?! Why does my life have to revolve around his convenience?

I do everything.  I work, I play single mom, I cook, I clean, I take care of the dogs.  All he has to do is finish remodeling our house, which has taken 6 fucking months, and even then he still complains about how tired HE is and how hard it is on HIM.  I don't fucking matter to the son of a bitch, and yes his mom is a bitch.  I have half a piece of mind to write the bitch and ask her how she can even consider herself a mother knowing she raised such a selfish, inconsiderate, unappreciative ass clown.  And trust me, she says "Oh, I know my son" all the time--so she knows. 

I'm sick and tired of going out of my way to make the asshole happy.  I didn't have to wake up at 6am on a Saturday to make him Cinnamon Toast Crunch cupcakes, heart shaped pink Rice Krispy treats, and lasagna so I could give it to him Saturday (or any day really), but I did and I do to make him feel special and to show I care.  All he's done is work on the fucking house and walk around like that's the biggest contribution to our relationship. I understand this house has turned into his labor of love, but enough already and come the fuck on.  What's worse is he actually thinks us living together as an actual family again will fix things. 

It won't.

And I'm getting to the point where I won't be able to put the pieces of my heart back together for a lather, rinse, repeat of this nature.