One Final Note

Ring ring.

"Hello?"

"I have a suggestion, Dale. It's a way that we can work things out, if you'll listen without hanging up on me."

A faint glimmer of Hope, I thought. Very faint, but a glimmer of Hope nonetheless.

"If you want to speak constructively, Kelly, if you want to speak without threats and without offense and about putting things right, I'm all ears. Please go ahead."

"You've got to stop treating me like shit, Dale. You've got to realise that I'm a good person. I was a good wife. I missed my mother's funeral because I was making you a sandwich ...."

More drivel. The glimmer faded quickly and was gone. I moved the phone away from my ear to ignore the rubbish she was spewing, and when I listened again a few seconds later ...

"It's no use. I'll just have to get a restraining order."

And she hung up the phone.

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A mediator, eh?

What would a mediator do? Make her stop smoking pot? Make her stop screaming at the kids? Make her stop her hysterics, her tears, her self-pity? Would a mediator help her get a job? Would a mediator stop her lies? Her denial? Her pathetic need of a man in her Life constantly? Would a mediator help her to speak coherently?

She is dead to me. She has ceased to exist. Please don't visit this blog again to read about the latest mis-adventures of someone who was once a part of my Life. She is no longer a part of my Life, no longer reasonable, no longer of sound mind. To me, dear readers, she is simply no longer. Kelly is DEAD.

You have read my final post about her.

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