Dear, You know who the fuck you are

Really? The audacity? Did you think I was going to have any pity for you and your loss when you never even thought of him as anything while he lived? Yeah. Right. No.

While he was barely in the throes of living, the slightest thing took away all his strength; he thought enough to make sure you couldn't get anything. What do you think that says? I could surely tell you, but I won't be as cruel as you were.

I know, narcissists never think they are cruel. It's always, "Oh, poor me. I'm a victim. Everyone is against me." However, you know that I know the fucking truth… from BOTH sides.

You haven't spoken to him in years. When you found out you knew someone who continued to tell him about the girls, you cut that shit off. Well, congrats, he wanted nothing to do with you. I even reminded him this was forever. You got your wish. He didn't give a fuck about you just like you didn't give a fuck about him.

The Obit, he created. He picked out his urn. He planned everything. The last week he lived, he made sure all the legal papers were in order. Standing for 45 minutes wiped him the fuck out, but he didn't care.

I watched him die and continued to make sure he didn't feel pain. I listened to the death rattle until it stopped sounding. I was the one who watched out for him, so, please, save your "oh pity me" for someone who gives a fuck, because I saw what you did. I hope you lose sleep over it, but your type never does. You will shed the tears for attention, nothing else. Fuck off.