She Married Kevin. I Am Fine Now

She Married Kevin.
I Am Fine Now.
By
Grant Kniefel


For
Jennifer Lawrence



Jessica Riley is a self-centered cunt. Everything about her screams trashy. Her hair is too long, too brown, and too stringy. Her eyes are the ugliest shade of sickly toad vomit. There are too many freckles all around her little rat face. Her body is too skinny; she’s a goddamn anorexic. Her sense of humor is warped. Her fashion sense is demented. Her hairstyles are migraine inducing. She has the personality of a rock. Every time I talked to her, she gets a this blank look on her face and she speaks in low, dull, monotone. Her throat bulges too much when she talks. She sings like a screeching racoon. Despite playing varsity volleyball when she was in high school, her athletic abilities compare to that of a (insert analogy for bad here).
Jessica Riley is a heart breaking bitch. She takes your heart, stab it in various places with whatever scrap of metal she can find until it is nothing but a sticky, red, gushing pulp, and throws it into a paper shredder. She has no respect for the feelings, needs, or opinions of others. She doesn’t want anything to do with you. She is a nymphomaniac. Jessica Riley is such a sociopathic, narcissistic, psychopathic, egotistical, manipulative, bottom feeding tramp that she had me up for twelve years, crying myself to sleep just trying to get over her.
The ironic thing is, I was happiest when I was dating her.


Chapter 1
Of course, Jessica wasn’t always a bitch. I used have a major crush on her. We had gone through grade school together and I thought that she was the prettiest girl in our grade, though most boys would argue that role belonged to Hannah Woods. In preschool, we would always play together in the mud. My parents would sigh every time I came home with dirt all over me. When they thought that I couldn’t hear them in the middle of the night, they would say how much of a bad influence she was on me. Despite being only four years old, I was quite observant, what with my ear pressed against their door.
Our friendship continued, despite my parent’s dismay. In kindergarten, we would color together and play on the playground. In first grade, we would take turns reading to each other. Back then everyone always thought of us as a “married couple”; despite our protestations, I will admit that it was at this point in time that I truly began to love her. Then, in second grade, the wall went up. Everybody thought boys were to be with boys and girls were to be with girls. (Honestly, I always thought of that as complete and utter bullshit.) Then somebody came up with “cooties,” which was aggravating to no end. They might have very well treated it as though it was herpes. I just avoided it. Jessica Riley and I secretly remained friends throughout this.
In 6th grade, something changed.. Everytime I saw her, my heart beated a mile a minute, sweat bead my palms, my legs went to Jell-O, and I couldn’t speak. I thought of this more as lust but I was eleven. What the hell was I going to do about it? So I did what any kid with a crush did: I performed a romantic gesture.
I was feeling particularly ballsy for an eleven year old, so I went out to the front yard to pick some flowers. My mother’s petunias were the least of her favorites, so I hoped she wouldn’t mind and if she did well screw it. I went to school that morning, flowers in my bag. My original plan was to ask her to meet me by the swing set, give her the flowers, and then sneak a quick kiss on the cheek. Some of you may be saying, “Oh you sly dog,” to which you are correct.
I went forward with my mission. She was lounging by the basketball court with her girl friends like she usually did. The sight of her caused my stomach to contort. My body filled with a sort of adrenaline and anxiety. Back then, it wasn’t normal for the guys to mix with the girls because of the herpes-cooties virus, but as I am sure you can tell, I DIDN’T CARE. Screw what everyone else thought or said. I liked a girl. Was I going to be discriminated for that? Probably, but I still didn’t care. The overpowering effect of male libedo was too much for my tiny, masculine body to handle. I was willing to get HIV. I walked up to her group and the guys stopped playing basketball. All eyes were on us.
“Um... Jessica?” I choked out. She looked up and smiled.
“Hey, Blink. What’s up?” She replied.
“Er- um- c-c-can you m-m-meet m-me by t-the s-s-s-swings at l-l-l-lunch?” I said, stammering my words.
“Sure,” she said sweetly.
Nailed it.
School drug on that morning. Everybody was wondering what my next move would be. People were wondering if I was going to try to get to second base with her. So was I but let’s be realistic. Finally, the time came when we were released to recess. I ran to my spot by the swingset. Then I saw her. Her bright green eyes sparkled in the midmorning sun. Her golden brown hair fell slowly down her face. She was perfection. Then fucking Tommy had to come in and screw it up. I fucking hate that guy.
Tommy had decided to start a game of kill the chicken, which is essentially dodgeball, but playground wide. David and Tommy tossed big, red rubber balls at each other, and as they ran, David tossed one and it was rushing towards Jessica. On the single functioning brain cell I had left that wasn’t suppressing my erection, I noticed my love’s imminent fate. I bolted towards her, and took the hit. The rubber ball smashed against my face, and I fell forward, mashing my nose into the gravel. There was a warm liquid running down my face. The blood rushed down my face and clothes, dying my white t-shirt a deep crimson.
Jessica ran over to help me up, and before I knew it, I vomited all over Jessica’s dress. With all the girls running away, Tommy and David fell over laughing. “HAHA! What a loser!” Tommy screeched. I ran into the nurse’s office.
God damn it Tommy, I thought. You little shit, you fucking ruined my perfect plan. I’m going to chop your balls off and feed them to my chihuahua.
Reaching the nurse’s office, the nurse, Greg, instantly pulled out some tissues and an ice pack. “Alright, bro, I need you to lie down for me. That’s it. Whoa, girly, what happened to you?” He said. I snapped my neck up to see Jessica entering the room. “Nothing. Just get me some clothes.” She said. Greg went off to go do as he was commanded. Jessica looked at me.
“Hi,” she said.
I chuckled, “Hey.
“So a raincheck then?” she asked.
“Sure,” I responded.
Greg came in a minute later. “Here, go put these on.” He handed Jessica a pair of worn jeans and a Miley Cyrus t-shirt. She sighed in dismay, yet took the clothes and left the room. Eventually, I cleaned myself up and returned to class. As I walked into the room, everyone stared. Tommy and David began laughing their asses off. I walked up to Tommy and punched him square in the nose.
“OW! You little shit!” he said, as blood ran down his face. The teacher didn’t see this, so she just turned around and told Tommy to go to the nurse. Tommy glared at me as he got up to go.
The next day I met Jessica.
“Hey,” I said, digging around in my backpack.
“Oh howdy,” she responded. She was an inch taller than me and I looked up to look her in the eye.
Pulling the flowers out of my bag, I realized that they had gotten crushed and wilted slightly, without water and lying limply in my bag.
“Oh, these are for you,” I said, trying not to look embarrassed.
She laughed. “You’re adorable.” I blushed.
Then I kissed her.
I kissed her lightly at first, barely pressing my lips to her’s, but when she kissed me back I began kissing her more passionately. I kissed her, and she kissed me. My heart beat fast as I kissed her.
When we pulled apart, she said, “I’m moving away.” My heart dropped into my stomach. And then two weeks later, she left.






Chapter 2
As I recount this story of heartbreak and how Jessica Riley is a cunt, I have to warn that I don’t remember much, as I am writing this after I got out of the hospital. One of the few things I truly do remember is the breakup and what happened before it. I remember that I was unemployed. The world was cruel, and so I hadn’t found a job, and I knew I wasn’t going to find a job anytime soon. Jessica had a job, so that is how we had money. She understood that I was going through a hard time, so she didn’t mind giving up money. Besides, her parents were loaded.
I had gone looking for a job that day. It was hot, I remember that. As evening rolled around, I knew that any attempts for the rest of the day would probably be futile, so I retired to the one place I could call sanctuary.
I went to Denny’s. I wolfed down 3 different omelets, 12 orders of hash browns, and several milkshakes. After ordering something to go for Jessica, I paid with Jessica’s credit card and left. I arrived home feeling satisfied yet upset. That’s when it happened.
I entered the apartment. Jessica sat on the edge of my bed, her eyes red and stained from tears. Something was up. “I’m home!” I said to her. She didn’t answer. Dropping the bag of greasy food on the counter, I slid out of my shoes and entered the musky bedroom. There were faint smells of semen, cigarettes, and whiskey, not to mention the fact that she attempted to mask the whole room in Febreeze. She had been smoking again, a pleasure she exclusively reserved for post-sex. Whiskey was a new fragrance as both of us hated the taste of it. Why was this in my room?
“You okay?” I asked her.
She sobbed harder as I tried to console her. I knew this wasn’t going to end well. A part of me had somehow known what she had done. “I’ve done something bad, Blink.” She replied, muttering it under her breath.
“What is it?” I said, matching her volume.
“I’ve been cheating on you.”
My mind was blank yet racing at the same time. “What?” I yelled. Tears streamed all down her face.
“I’m so sorry.” She said.
“How many were there?” These were the only words I could muster at this point.
“What do you mean?”
“You damnwell know what I mean!” I was shouting. There was a vein in my head just waiting to burst and my face had turned purple.
“Well there was Kevin and John and Jimmy and Lauren, I was dabbling in a little bit of lesbianism at the time, and Jonah and Will and-” Her eyes went to the ceiling, as if she counting the imaginary cloud where she fucked her victims.
“You bitch.”
She stopped immediately. It resinated. “What did you call me?”
“I called you a bitch.” I said, smugly. I had found her weak spot.
“Don’t call me that!”
“Would you prefer something more lady like, you cunt?” I pranced around.
“You fucker!” She screamed at top volume. She grabbed the lamp on the bedside table and beat me with it. Blood streamed from my cheek as I shouted in pain. Glass entered the side of my face and I knew I was going to be scarred. “Get the fuck off me!” I shouted as I shoved her off me. She toppled back and hit her head against the sheetrock. I ran over to her and picked her up. A red liquid gushed out of her mouth appearing as though she had been drinking Kool-Aid, probably a mix between blood and semen
“Did you screw them in here?” I shouted, shaking her by the shoulders and wobbling her head around. She was scared, I could tell. Tears were pouring from her eyes again. “No.” She said. “Bullshit!” I yelled. She flinched, expecting another hit. I slapped her across the face and started pounding my fist against her. Her eyes began to swell and bruises started to form. “Did you fuck them in my bedroom?” I shouted again, pounding my fist into her face between each word.”Ye’, Ye’ I ‘id. ‘us’ ‘et off ‘m.” I remembered her mouth was full of the red liquid that had suddenly filled the bedroom. I released her and she ran to the bathroom, blood pouring in every single direction. I heard the sound of vomiting, as I grabbed my coat and left. At least, that’s what the police report said anyway.


Chapter 3
I remember the place where I was reunited with my love for the first time since 6th grade. I was eating at Ecbar, this fancy restaurant downtown, when I looked across the room and.... but I’m getting ahead of myself. I entered the beautiful restaurant with my grandparents. I was a senior in college, celebrating my nearing graduation. The restaurant was dimly lit, giving it a sort of hole in the wall feel to it. The carved marble floors glimmered in the light of the chandeliers, which looked like those of a princess castle. The plush red velvet caressed the wall like a brush to a canvas. The aroma of freshly baked bread, simmering vegetables, and proteins grilling was intoxicating. The restaurant was even more glorious than I remembered.
My grandparents had made reservations for that evening earlier in the week. We were to attend the showing of West Side Story that evening, so we knew there was going to be a rush of people that were going to go see it as well. “I’ve been looking forward to this for weeks!” I told them. Grandma chuckled. “Well it’s our treat. Graduating college is a pretty big deal.” The hostess said, “We have your table ready.” She sat us at a table that complemented the décor exquisitely. She winked at me, when I sat down, as she handed me a handwritten menu. As she walked away, my grandparents were indistinguishably speaking amongst themselves. I truly didn’t care in the moment. The waitress was very pretty but I couldn’t flirt with her what with my grandparents sitting across the table from me.
The less than particularly fit waiter bustled over to our table. Despite his enormous size, he spoke with a small voice. “Good evening folks,” he said in his little man voice. “Welcome to Ecbar. Can I start off with drinks?” I looked at him and said, “A lemon drop please,” I said. My grandparents weren’t too surprised that I ordered a cosmos, but that doesn’t mean they were particularly happy about it. They both ordered their respective wines and the waiter waddled off.
When our drinks came, I put my lips to the glass and took a swig. The sour and pungent liquid was delicious, despite being the color of neon urine. My grandparents were quiet for most of the evening. After ordering their vegan meals, they stayed silent. I suppose that was strange because usually they would chat me up but for some reason, they were staring into the distance. I turned to look at what they were. Across the room sat Jessica Riley. She wore a beautiful black silk dress, golden earrings, and makeup that was subtle yet understated. There sat the girl that I fell in love with all those years ago.
Our meals arrived. I had been there once before, where I wolfed down a steak the size of my palm. This is a good point for me to comment on a thing that has always bugged me. I never understood why the rich request such small portions of meat for triple the price of a steak I can get at some other place. The steak I enjoyed at Ecbar was terribly small, yet I was surprised when my grandparents commented that I ate it too quickly.
When I finished, I saw Jessica get up to leave. This had to be my chance. “Excuse me,” I said. My grandparents looked curious about my motives, but they didn’t ask, which I greatly appreciated. I walked after Jessica. When I left, I saw her on the street. “JESSICA!” I called after her. She turned and saw me. I saw her mouth drop as I ran up to her. “Oh my god, Blink!” She said. She squealed with delight as she bust forward to hug me. “It’s so great to see you!” We talked for a few minutes after that. We caught up and talked about where we were now. “Jessica!” Her parents said after a while. “Oh shit. I forgot about my parents. Here’s my number.” She dug around in her purse for a moment, until she found a slightly rippled sheet of paper and a pen. She wrote her number down onto it. “Text me later,” She winked at me and then she was gone.
I went back inside to see my grandparents. They asked me where I had gone. I told them, “I just found the love of my life.” They smiled and we ate the fantastic tasting molten chocolate cake that the waiter had brought to us. I raised my glass and drank. “You know, love is just a kick in the head isn’t it?” I said. They smiled, nodded, and drank with me.

Chapter 5
After leaving Jessica Riley in the apartment, I stayed with my parents for a while. I still didn’t have a job and so I didn’t have anywhere to go on my own. Mom was kind to me about it. She said she never trusted Jessica Riley anyway and that I could stay as long as I needed to, which was nice because I was terrified of exactly how long I needed to be there. The first week was hard. I stayed at home, wallowing in my own self pity. Jessica Riley is such a bitch, I thought to myself. And then I realized something. Why was I allowing her in her bitchy ways to control my emotions? I couldn’t believe that I allowed her to play me like a piano. Fuck her! So I stopped. But I was still lonely.
The night I went to get my stuff from Jessica’s house, I was going to a bar. I need some clothes for myself because I had been wearing the same three pairs of jeans for two weeks and I wanted to look nice for once. I went to the apartment where I had lived less than two weeks ago. I wasn’t excited. Anxiety flipped around in my stomach like pancakes flipping on a stove. I felt as though I was going to vomit. After standing there for a few seconds, I took a deep breath and knocked on the door. I heard scuffling around inside the apartment. About a minute later, Jessica Riley opened the door, half naked in a skimpy tank top and boy boxers. I knew she was in bed with someone.
“Well, howdy,” she said. Her face was swollen and covered in bruises. Her green eyes were puffy and in various shades of purple. She looked horrible. How would any man want to sleep with her?
“I just came for my stuff,” I replied.
“Sure,” she smiled. Letting me get through the door, I entered the dank apartment. The place was unrecognizable. Blood splattered the walls, lamp shards lay in the corner, and the bed I formerly slept on was in shreds, appearing as though she had taken a machete to it. She was obviously having a hard time. Had I not known what actually happened, I would’ve guessed that she had become a serial killer and that her victims were attacked on the mattress. I was shocked and frankly a little scared.
“Um...” I stood there, dumbfounded.
“I’ve done some remodeling.”
“I’ve noticed,” I only wanted to get my crap and leave.
As though she had read my mind, she said, “Go ahead and get your stuff.” With pleasure, I thought. There was a rotten smell in the air.
“What smells like shit?” I asked.
“Foul spunk,” she replied, nonchalantly. EWWW!!
“What the fuck?” I yelled.
“Shh!” she said. “Kevin’s sleeping.”
“Kevin?” I inquired.
“Yeah, he was one of my one night stands who I decided to get back with after you left.” Well god fucking damn it.
I tried to enter my room. “Wait, no don’t go in there!” she said.
“Why?” I demanded.
“Kevin’s in there.”
And so I left.
Fuck you Jessica Samantha Riley! Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you! I hope you get fingered by the Wolverine! And to take my frustration out, I painted. I painted my heart out. Splattering my feelings out onto a canvas was my only sense of relief. Fuck you Jessica Riley. I painted everything I had ever felt about Jessica Riley onto a giant board. On it was a giant strawberry. Strawberries. Sexy. Sinful. Deceiving. Deadly. And as I painted, I cried and cried and cried. “Fuck you Jessica Riley!” I shouted at the top of my lungs.

Chapter 6
Then came the art gallery showing. I had finally made it somewhere in my life. With the
pain of being heartbroken by Jessica Riley, I had translated that into some artwork. On the blank white walls of the gallery stood everything I had done over the past month. There stood the painting of what I called “The Naked Lady”. It was a painting that was splashed in brown and showed what it was I saw in those bedrooms all throughout the nights.
I recognize that I probably should have saw the signs. She wanted nothing but sex. Everyday I would come home and we would already be in sexual intercourse. Why did she have this obsession with sex? I mean of course it was great. But why? Was there a problem that she had with her personality that caused her to turn to sex as a means to try to get out all her frustration? Or was she just trying to screw me over? At any rate she certainly caused me to stumble back into the depression I had gotten out of when I saw her again after 10 years of coping without her.
People began to arrive. There was a decent amount of advertising around the show: People heard that it was among the most controversial shows currently out there. The sexually progressive imaging that had founded the show was apparently to be extremely offensive.... and the people just couldn’t get enough of it. As I began to walk around the gallery with the best kind of lemon drop available (the free kind), I began to examine the expressions of those admiring my art. The looks on their face were bright with amazement and intent. Such a sense of intrigue was seen once, maybe twice in a lifetime.
I will admit I had a few drinks. The vodka hadn’t necessarily gone to my head, but then again that’s probably what caused me to grow slightly more arrogant than I would have liked. As I was bragging to all the people that would listen, I looked across the room and saw this beautiful woman standing there looking at the works that ate at the white walls. Excusing myself, I downed the last of the free lemon drop, slicked my hair back, and swaggered my way on over to her.
She was looked at my portrait of Jennifer Lawrence, (in the nude, unfortunate to say... just kidding it was pretty glorious) when I went over and saw her. There was a puzzled look on her face as she pondered at the breast of the single greatest actress of all time. “Hello,” I said to her. Her lips were puckered into somewhat of a scowl as she turned to look at me. “How did you find this photo of me?” she said. Frankly, I was taken aback by her question. Then I began to truly look at her. She had a perfect resemblance to the most gorgeous of actresses. “Um...” I said.
She laughed. “I know its Jennifer Lawrence. I just like to bullshit people when they show photos of her in front of me.” she said. I laughed nervously. This woman certainly was attractive, but I was still trying to get over Jessica Riley. Was she going to be the one that helps me to get out of my funk? What did she think about the scar that ran all down my face? Was she going to try and sleep with me purely because I was the artist? Either way she was pretty, I was tipsy, so why the hell not?
“Well my dear, you and her share the same exquisite beauty,” I said coyly, trying to impress her. She giggled like a 4th grader. “Why thank you good sir. I’m Anna Rhodes, writer for the art section of-” (Shit, I forgot the name of her newspaper. Lets say...) “- Blink Jacobs Is A Sexy Beast Daily.” She stuck out her hand and expected me to shake it. I gawked at her. THIS WOMAN COULD MAKE OR BREAK MY ART CAREER. I was faced with a pivotal moment in my life and I was certainly going to treat it as such. “Well nice to meet you Anna,” I said, finally shaking her hand. “I’m Blink Jacobs.”
And then we talked. We talked about art. We talked about our favorite artists. We talked about the meanings behind my paintings (“I just got out of relationship with a nymphomaniac,”). We talked about sex. We talked about how greedy the world is. We just talked. Honestly, I hadn’t seen myself smile so much since I had been with Jessica.
The night began to draw to a close and I began to consume another lemon drop. All my paintings had sold except the one about Jennifer Lawrence. I decided to keep that one for myself. Anna and I walked out of the gallery together and we said good night. She handed me her number and we kissed. I can certainly say I was on cloud 9 after that night.


Chapter 7
Jessica and I did meet for coffee. We caught up with each other about how our lives had been since we had seen each other in 6th grade. She had moved away to somewhere in California. She told me about how she had the greatest sex of her life with this hunky surfer dude. I didn’t care to hear this but I listened anyway because this was Jessica Riley! The girl I had been in love with since grade school, the one that kept me up all night crying, the one that I wish would come back so that way I could hold her again was sitting right in front of me, beautiful as ever, drinking a latte! Of course I was going to listen I was excited.
We talked for hours. Eventually the shop owner kicked us out so we walked around for a while. At the end of it all, I kissed her. She didn’t push back either. So we went back to the coffee shop holding hands, and then we went our separate ways. I smiled to myself as I drove home. When I arrived at my apartment, I entered and the smell of cigarettes and vomit hit me instantly. Dylan’s back, I thought to myself. Dylan was my drug selling roommate who loafs on the couch drinking gin and tonic all day. I would have kicked him out except he paid all the rent so I had to keep him around if only for a little while longer.
As I entered, the sound of Ace Hood blared over the loudspeakers. “I WOKE UP IN A NEW BUGATTI,” the rapper said. I was taken aback by a) the great quality of the old speakers and b) that nobody had called the police yet. Dylan heard me enter. He was a small guy, no taller than 5’ 6”, with brown hair and brown skin. “BLINK!” he said, running towards me and picking me up. Despite his small size, that guy was strong and he swept me off my feet.
You know what, fuck this part. This story isn’t about my shroom eating roommate with his baggy clothes, his possible homosexuality, and his daddy issues. Its about me explaining my relationship with a goddamn nymphomaniac. So fuck it.


Chapter 8
I’m sorry to have to cut the part about Dylan’s dick being cut off short, but I needed
space for the last part. Let’s start.
Let me begin with saying Anna I’m sorry. I suppose, dear reader, you deserve an explanation. Here it goes: Anna Rhodes and I were in a relationship for 9 months. When we met after that first evening at the art gallery, I knew there was something between her and I that there was never between Jessica Riley and I. She was smart, opinionated, funny, quirky, and extremely and uncontrollably beautiful. This was a near-perfect girl. Like I said, Anna and I dated for a while. It started slowly with lunch dates every now and then, which turned to us going out more frequently, and then us moving in together and me bringing her her favorite coffee every morning before she woke up (quad shot grande mocha, extra whip, low fat milk, and white chocolate). I tried to be a good boyfriend. After what had happened with Jessica Riley, I was very self conscious about myself in the dating world. We had been in a relationship for the better part of 5 years. I was nervous to get back into the world of lonely nights, endless shots, and women flashing me every which way. Anna was the greatest woman I had ever dated. Every night, I would come home to her and she would hug me. She would ask me how my day was as she cooked dinner. She was the best chef. The sex was amazing. I loved her. I loved her so much. God damn it why did I have to go and fuck it up?!
Jessica Riley during this time was being a slut. She gotten a job as an escort in order to get her sexual needs met. But it wasn’t enough for her. She wanted revenge. I had put her in the hospital and broken her nose and jaw. She wanted to ruin my life again like she unintentionally did when she left me. Yet, she still loved me.
About a week before Anna and I were to be married, I got a knock on the door. My iPod was blaring heavy rap music as I splattered paint across canvases the size of bookcases, so I didn’t hear it right away. So Jessica Riley walked in anyway. It took me a full 30 seconds to realize she was sitting behind me, completely naked.... I don’t particularly know how to write about the next part, however I believe you know where I was going with it.
Anna came home an hour later, after Jessica Riley had left. Instantly she knew. A fight ensued. The thing that hurt the most was when she said, “Your obsession with that girl is creepy. SHE WAS FUCKING FIVE YEARS OLD WHEN YOU TWO MET. Did you really think you would be with her forever?” I tried to tell her it was a mistake and that she was the one I truly loved, but she just... left.

Epilogue
When I woke up again, I was in the hospital. I knew so because I smelt the cold.
Hospitals smell cold. I also knew because there was a woman who was waiting at the foot of my
bed. She was an older woman, with graying hair, and Jessica Riley's sickly toad vomit eyes. She
snapped up to look at me with a large grin on her face.
"Hello, deary," she said. "My name is Donna."
"Blink," I said.
"I know," she said. I stared at her waiting for her next question. When it came I was ready
for it.
"Why are you with us today?" Donna asked. I began to explain what happened.
What happened was that I tried to kill myself.
Yeah.
Ultimately, I called 911 after I had twisted the knife. So they recommended I go into treatment. I had selected a treatment center in Alaska. I was in the treatment center for 9 months.There were things that I couldn’t deal with through art. They found out about how my cousin abused me, then my mom, then Jessica Riley. They told me they were surprised I lasted as long as I did before the suicide attempt.There were happy days and there were sad days. Groups were tough for me to go to, but I enjoyed the one night a week, where we all sat together and watched a movie. The day before I left I got to choose my favorite movie and we watched it as a group. Its this movie called Her and its about a guy who falls in love with his operating system. I find it quite funny. My dad came to pick me up. It was the first time I had seen him since college graduation 14 years ago. I was excited to see him. In his car sat a pile of mail that was meant for me to receive. On our way back to town, I went through the mail. There were cards from people I knew, mainly telling me I would get better. Anna had sent one. She now lives in Australia with her husband. It was only when I reached the bottom of the pile when I saw a small hand written envelope. I opened it:
Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Marks
Invite you to the wedding of
Their son Kevin Andrew Marks
To
Jessica Samantha Riley
On June 21st 2014.
You know, I retract my earlier statements. Jessica Riley isn't a bitch, no matter what emotional turmoil or heartbreak or whatever she put me through. She's just a human being. She makes mistakes, just like the rest of us. I don't hate her. She's just another one of us. One who just happens to be a sex addict. Yet, she married Kevin 4 months ago and I’m fine now