I'm Gonna Stop Calling Her a Whore Now

On the morning of September 21, I did something very impulsive. I was on my way to Starbucks, when I thought of writing a letter to Denver’s ex-mistress. When I got back to the office, I wrote my letter in haste and sent it to her right away.

Dear Tyn,

For the past year, I’ve been carrying a heavy burden. No day has gone by that I do not think about what happened to you, Barry, me and Denver last year. I don’t think the pain would ever go away, but it’s been almost a year now, and I feel that the only way I can let go of it is to tell you that I’m sorry it happened to all of us, and that I’d like to start waking up each day, knowing that I have no resentment towards anyone, including you.

We are all bound to walk into each other sooner or later. When that happens, I don’t want to have to contain any anger. I’d like to see you and be able to smile or nod to you, as if nothing ever happened. I’m not asking for your friendship. I just want to stop hating you or anyone.

I don’t know if this means anything to you. I don’t know if you care at all. I know you and Barry have moved on. But this matters to me. So I am sending you this, not to pick on old wounds but to bury the hatchet.

Best of luck to you and Barry.

Sincerely,

Bebot

What do you think?

Parody

I’m beginning to have second thoughts about passing off on our company’s next Leadership Convention. I usually welcome these events, but I developed a certain allergy to it since the last Lead-Con.

You see, my husband’s ex-mistress is an esteemed Team Leader from one of our sites. As such, this Lead-Con would be a reunion of sorts for the two of us. Bleah.

Let’s just say that after the last Lead-Con, I wanted to admit myself to a hospital because of hypertension.

After getting caught cheating on her boyfriend with my husband, the piece of trash had the audacity to strut beside me. And I swear that if I didn’t value my job, I would have slit her throat right then and there.

So, this thing is two days away and I still don’t know what to do. If I go, I know I will feel so damaged again.

One of my bosses called me the other day to ask why I am the only TL in our site who did not accept the invitation. I told her the truth. She didn’t want to accept my shallow reason and was pushing me to go. She thinks I shouldn’t miss out on the opportunity to be inspired by Jaime Augusto Zobel de Ayala II. I honestly want to go, but what can I do? I’m still so damn affected. All I want is to never see her again. Earth, please swallow her now.

I can’t believe I don’t have the strength to face that slut. And I thought I had toughened up.

Caught The Tramp

My friendster shout-out says this: If you stink like fish, stop looking. Slut.

I’m sorry, but I just couldn’t help myself. This is my chance to tell Denver’s whore that I know she’s looking. I took a screenshot.

The pathetic tramp calls herself Fishy’s Wife. Fishy, is what she calls the boyfriend whom she cheated on. How the fuck can she call herself Fishy’s Wife after sleeping with another man? What a hypocrite.

Hey whore! Why don’t you try calling yourself Everyone’s Slut? It seems more appropriate. Ü

Worse Than Her Death

"About Me" says that I'm happy with my life now. This is not true at the moment. In fact this has not been true for weeks. This is, no doubt, due to the recent mess I've been caught in.

How long does this torment have to go on? I am so fucking sick of it. I want to forget about what happened but how the hell am I supposed to do that when the process of wanting to forget involves pondering over the damn thought? Am I even making sense?

Some days I want to die. No matter how much I want to move on, harmful thoughts creep in and drag me into my misery. I want to erase her sickening image from my memory but it pops up like an ugly zit that just won't go away.

I've contemplated on hiring someone to disfigure her face with acid. Not that there's much to destroy but it might be a joy to see her melting face. I often imagine her wailing in agony while the acid eats up her face. I'd like to watch it happen and I would make sure she keeps her vision so that she can look at her hideous face. A monstrous face that would perfectly match her already nauseating character.

Other days I just want to shove the thought because she is not worthy of my time and thoughts.

This whore should live long enough to suffer her karma. She has taken something from me that I may never get back. My faith.

I have not made any decisions yet. Right now I'm just pissed and confused.

I still want to look at the glass half-full. God help me.