Final Chapter

Yes, Ms Journal, it's me. It is "I", more properly put. Anyway, here I am in a hotel lobby in sunny Windsor, Ontario, 200 miles from home and feeling ... Well, I'm feeling a lot of things, but of course, I'm not allowed to write about it anymore. I can't discuss my ex-wife because I don't want her to send me another nasty letter filled with lies, inconsistencies and misspelled words. I can't discuss my daughter because I'm afraid she'd somehow misunderstand my desire for her to have a happy, healthy adult Life. And I dare not mention her boyfriend for fear he'd post another angry tirade here in this space offering me free (and unsolicited) parenting advice.

Since ThewomanIwasoncemarriedtobutnowcannotmention reads this blog, I don't feel comfortable anymore telling you about my private Life. I don't want her to know. I don't want her to know anything about me. The only thing I want her to know is how sad and disappointed I am in the way things have turned out. And I want her to know I'll never forgive her for the damage she's done.

I wish I could tell you about all the good and wonderful things in my Life, Ms J, but I don't want her to know. I have so much to say ... So much I will tell her one day when it's safe to do so without harming my children.

But I can't write anymore. I can't write here anymore because of that miserable woman. I can't write here anymore because of a young man who believes he knows how to parent my daughter. And I can't write here anymore because I promised my daughter.

It's been good, Ms J. It's been really good. But I think this is the end.

Farewell. God Bless.

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