Bitter much?

Fab called me the other day, just to see how I was doing, and it left me with a really bad taste in my mouth. For the first time, I felt angry with him - how is it fair that he gets to be happy? He screwed me over, and he's the one who's happy. I've always said I wanted him to be happy, but I sure wasn't feeling it then. Shame on me for wanting him to know what it's like to be hurt so badly. But hey, we've all got our weak moments. And at least I'm comforted in knowing that he always feels like crap after talking to me too. I don't know why that makes me feel better, but it does - like I'm not completely alone in my suffering.

He did share two pieces of news with me though, one good and one bad. The nice ex-SIL is pregnant, which is funny, because I had a dream last time I talked to her that she had a bun in the oven, so I asked her and she said no, we're not even trying. So congrats to them, she will make a wonderful mother (the verdict is still out on Fab's step-brother though, lol). The bad news is that the Père Chesnas died this weekend - he's the crazy (but lovable) old priest I've written about a few times before on my old blog. RIP Père.

PS. Père, if you're looking down on us from up there, please feel free to play a little trick on Fabrice - you know, escaped cows, a flat tractor tire - something along those lines. I promise I won't tell anyone and we both know he deserves it!! :)