JAQQ!

I have never been sure if the meaning of the word upset means upset as in sad or as in angry. But if someone can be angrily upset then it is yours truly. Angry for a woman who has decided that she wants to get back into my life regardless of history. And no, it's not even a sexy tidbit history, because sadly her having a husband being the worst example of homosexual , could never have been sexy. Being married made her so arrogant, so rude, so as if she knew it all. And her being married made me want to kill her, not in a hurried way of killing. No, I wanted to prolong her death so it would be as painful as possible. But since I unfortunately didn't live in the jungle then, I just pressed delete on her name and her miserable ignorant entity. She never could have hurt me, but she hurt my Mister a big deal. Because this woman is his hysterical sister. She worries me a great deal in the what-if-I-had-a-child-who-turned-out-like-her. I thought she was mad then, and I think she's madder now. And while mad might be good sometimes, this isn't. I do not care if she cries now, I do not care if she is depressed, I do not care if she's sick or not. Very frankly I don't care if she doesn't exist anymore. Some things, a lot of things, I can forgive. Some and many other things I cannot forgive. Geeze when I remember the agony and pain she created for her brother, when I watched him hurt and hopeless, there is no way on earth she's getting back into anybody's life, certainly not into mine. She cared less when her brother wasn't well, and I will care less for her who isn't well and who hasn't been well for six years, because that is as long as I have known her. Because now, she's left her husband. A husband who qualifies for the rudest sense of the term 'pufta'. And I do not like using the word, for my own reasons, but this time I just have to. A husband who walked and talked and sat and stood up like a woman and who interpreted my open-mouthed staring as if I were hitting on him. And boy is he ugly. And stupid and illiterate. There is only one word for people like him, it's a shuddering JAQQ! And it does happen that people sometimes wake up and recognise their mistakes and say the sorry word, which however does not guarantee forgiveness. A million sorry words wouldn't make me forgive. But what gets under my skin is that this mad hag hasn't even felt the need for just one sorry word. She goes around in a nest of hair, with a big mole on her face which would be perfect for this weekend's Carnival, had she to go around as the cruel witch of course. And just because she's lost the pufta husband does not mean she can call my house at her will. I think she'd like to, but she doesn't have my phone number. And she has actually tried to chatter me up as if nothing was ever wrong. It was I who sat there feeling helpless praying for Mister's and my situation to be better. It was I who cried with him. It was I who sat with him. It was just us two alone. She wasn't there. No she actually was there to make things worse. Together with her pufta husband whom she sang praises to... at the time. And now it's my time. My time to decide that I've pressed delete on her hysterical ways six years ago. My time to feel angry that she now expects help when she made sure she was never around. It's not my fault. Perhaps I am a bad girl. I am not Jesus who apparently accidentally told us to forgive 77 times. She's exceeded her 77 times anyway. And I will not forgive. I do not hate just because I am selfish, because I know that had I to hate, the hate would eat at me and in this sphere of life I am no masochist. So I just forget, i.e. forget her and not forgive. I know it's not making me look like a very nice girl, or a very sweet lady. But it's how it is, and I owe it to myself and the Mister not to let a wolf at my throat again. JAQQ!. That's the only word I can come up with. The big sense of disgust I feel is overwhelming. She can go hysterical as much as she likes, perhaps one day someone will lock her in a straight white jacket and put her where she belongs. Complete with her unpronounceable disgusting sorry excuse for a name which I shall not mention because then I'd be risking looking insane myself. JAQQ!