Meet Bella

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NEWSFLASH! All men are fucktards!!

I apologise for interrupting your evening with this news but I feel that some sorta sister solidarity is needed here … or some such shit. Why did nobody warn me? Why did nobody sit me down – the night before my wedding would have been useful – hell, two minutes before the ceremony would have done – and tell me that, sooner or later, all men shit on their significant others from a great height? And don’t think that just because your relationship is perfect right now that it won’t happen to you. My marriage was real. It was perfect. We were the perfect couple, everybody said so.

Hang on … I need more wine.

*slosh* *slurp*

Yeah, I know what you’re thinking … good marriages don’t just go up in a puff of smoke from the backfiring of a fairy godmother’s wand. That’s what I thought too until I found out the hard way that nothing and no-one is immune to the ‘s’ word. Separation. *shudders*  A word that wasn’t even on my radar until yesterday … and don’t even get me started on the next step … the ‘d’ word … the word that strikes fear into my very soul. No wonder Dolly Parton spelled it out … I can’t bring myself to say it either.

Don’t cry, Bella. Don’t cry … he’s not worth your tears. *slurp* *slurp* *slosh*

Here’s the thing … a perfect marriage can hit the skids, crash and burn, becoming a mangled write-off in a matter of seconds. It matters not how much you love them. How much you adore them. How much you put your own life on hold to support their career and aspirations. How you left all your friends and family behind to follow your dream that was, in reality, his dream but, in a marriage, it’s a shared dream. How you proudly support them when their professional life takes off.

How you strive to be the wife your prestigious husband deserves, never letting the side down, no matter how much bitching and backstabbing goes on between the other wives. No matter how much self-doubt creeps in until you begin to believe that you’re not good enough … that he deserves better. And no matter how many times the creepy, hoity toity associates try it on with you; you just smile and politely extricate yourself from their clutches. No matter how much you miss them when they are working away … all the damn time. And then, when they’re home, how much you fight valiantly to maintain the intimacy between you, no matter how tired or distant they are. Because he’s your partner. Your best friend. Your soul mate.

So what if you’ve missed them like mad and have counted down the hours till their return, only to find that you’re more alone then, than when you were actually alone. *slurp*

And you realise that he’s not moody because he’s tired … he’s moody because he doesn’t want to be home.

Oh god. *sob* *sluuuuuuuuurp*

*sob* *sob* That he’d rather be away on business. *sob* *slurp* *slosh* *slurp* *sob*

*sniff* Because your marriage wasn’t perfect. *angry sob* *sluuuurp* It can’t have been. Only you didn’t see it … *slurp* didn’t want to see it. *slurp*

*sob* *sniff* *sob* Until you’re faced with the undeniable truth that your husband doesn’t want to have sex with you when he’s home *sluuuuurp* because he’s too busy shoving his cock into his harem of spunkbuckets while he’s away. *slurp* And that’s when you realise *sob* that you’re the fucktard. *slo–* Oh shit. It’s empty. Just like my life. *sob*

Oh, get a grip, Bella. And get another bottle while you’re at it. *sniff*

Hi. My name’s Bella. 34. Failed wife. Trainee wino. Newly single. VERY newly single.

The humiliation of Bella Montgomery-Smythe has commenced.

Hang on … I’m single.

For the first time in almost fifteen years, I’m single. I don’t have to think for someone else. Only for myself. I don’t have to consider someone else. Only myself. This … this is big … no, it’s huge. It’s liberating.

And I’m not tied to that pretentious dickhead or his pretentious double-barreled name now – my fucktard of an ex can keep it. I can go back to my maiden name. In fact, I am. Starting now … well, when I’ve got this cork out … *slosh* *slosh* *sluuuurp*

Forget humiliation – the emancipation of Bella Duvall has commenced. Here’s to singledom and freeing oneself from the burden of a husband who has a penchant for paying for sex. Twat! Here’s to showing him what he’s missing … and what he can never have again. *slurp*

Cheers! *sluuuurp*

Bella x

 

Read Part Two of Bella’s Boudoir blog

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