And sometimes all I want is a piece of you for every piece of me...
I have wrecked a home; not a happy one, but a home nonetheless. I have become something I never thought myself capable of. I am the other woman. And it's not even full time. It's part time. It's...whenever there is time. Which there rarely is. And deep down I know why I did it. And it isn't any of those sickening reasons most people do things they would normally never do (i.e. "I'm still in love with him/her" or "I just can't let it go...") Oh, no. I did it out of pure and unadultered (ha!) hatred. I wanted to smash every ounce of happiness that he could possibly ever obtain from his current living situation.
Because he stole pieces of my heart that I stupidly and willingly gave away AND that I can never get back. I want every piece of his happiness until it's equal to the happiness of mine that he smashed and threw away. I don't love him anymore. I sure as hell don't need him anymore. The only sick need I have is for him to suffer for the choices he has made.
He chose her, he fucked me and I will fuck them both...
