Ponge went to work this morning. To fucking work! Didn't say a word. I called him and said - where are you? Don't we have an appointment with the counselor at eleven? Apparently he's decided all on his own not to continue with what we've just barely started and felt no need to discuss it with me or call the counselor and cancel the appointment.
I ended up calling her because he didn't have her card on him. From his conversation I suspect he read my last entry and just decided we were done so what's the point. I really wish he wouldn't act like spying on my diary was the same as having a conversation. Ponge - dig this: you don't have my permission to read this. I won't stop you, but you're being rude as hell. If you want my thoughts on something why don't you try a CONVERSATION for once. It's not my job to start every deep conversation we have. Additionally, try reading the fucking disclaimer and realize that what the fuck I type is not a holistic representation of my every thought and feeling.
Gr. And DON'T TOUCH MY FILES. I have very neatly arranged all the important documents in my life into a file box, which he seems to find the need to pilfer once in awhile, paying absolutly no heed to the order things are in. For some reason our 2004 taxes are completely missing. WHAT THE FUCK. Keep your hand OUT of my organized shit. Important shit. You are not organized, you lose paperwork.
I just can't fucking believe he disrespected mine and the counselor's time without saying a word. Last time I checked we are still a unit, whether we like it or not. We still share an apartment and bills and life insurance benefits and all that other crap so maybe it would be helpful to share our fucking thoughts instead of acting like everything is all clear and sorted out between the two of us.
And he was SO surprised when I was pissed off, and I think it's total bullshit that he didn't think he had an appointment. He was the one who told me that we had the appointment - what he just forgot all of the sudden? No, he decided it wasn't as important as making some extra money. Which, fine, go ahead, but have the decency to re-schedule or fucking at least use your words (hello didn't we learn that in kindergarden??) to state you no longer see it as something you want to do. Fuck.
Even if we are done, I certainly don't see the harm in taking advantage of a marriage counselor to help us communicate and have an amicable divorce. And the point was also to just be absolutely certain that being done was what we wanted, to give it every last effort...asshole. And stop reading my diary. Or at least have the balls to talk to me without pretending your actions aren't based on what you read.