imtiredfromabuse

It's been a challenging journey with this recent strategy, spanning approximately four years, involving significant time, financial resources, and effort. This week, however, marked a pivotal moment in our case. The judge presiding over our case denied my ex-wife's request to appoint minor's counsel for our child. Minor's counsel, an attorney representing the child's interests, typically charges between $300 to $500 to listen to the child and guide the parents accordingly. My ex-wife's intention seemed to be to use this as a strategy, influencing our child against me and setting the stage for a future living arrangement change when she turns 14, all while using the resources of Minor's Counsel to do so.

Our case has seen about a dozen judges over the last decade, and this particular judge has demonstrated exceptional thoroughness and logic in their approach. Despite my ex-wife and her attorney's fervent efforts to influence the judge, including various claims and statements, the judge remained unbiased in his decision-making process. At one point my ex-wife even told the judge that she can no longer afford her mortgage payments, which was irrelevant to the matter at hand. Meanwhile she owns 4 properties, each over a $1M in value, and makes 3x my income while I live in a shitty rented apartment.

I am concerned about the ongoing conflict and its impact on everyone involved, especially our child. I hope that those close to my ex-wife, including her family, friends, and attorney, can encourage her to seek support or therapy. It's important for her well-being and for moving beyond the anger and jealousy that seem to be driving these actions, affecting not only her and me, but especially our child. Please help.

In a world of digital traces, past love's glow, Still I log in, to a Netflix you bestow. Though our paths diverged, our love stories ended, Through episodes and films, our memories blended.

I ponder if she knows, or if she even cares, While I sneak into her realm, from my solitary lairs. It's not about the movies, or the series we've seen, But the moments we shared, in a digital dream.

So here's to the nights, with popcorn and thrill, To the love that once was, that time cannot kill. Of all things mysterious, one left me beguiled, The hue of her bicycle, wild and reviled.

I’ve seen it in passing, a blur and a gleam, But the shade of its paint remains but a dream. Is it vibrant and fiery, like roses in June? Or gentle and calming, like light of the moon?

So, in playful jest and in digital jesters, I posed her a challenge, among Netflix testers. “Make it a profile, that color so fine, Let the name of that shade in bold letters align.”

For each time I log in, and our choices entwine, I'll glimpse that secret color, and know it's a sign. A nod to our bond, in laughter and profile, The shade of her bicycle, shared for a while.

Dear Liliana,

You were like an angel, gracing my life from the heavens above. A refreshing breath of air, a serendipitous charm, always there at the right moment, especially after the disappointments of another failed marriage. Your presence in my life felt like a touch of good fortune. You became my muse when I desperately sought inspiration.

When I was alone, I was just an ordinary man, but with you by my side, our adventures were thrilling, like those of a CIA agent tracking Chinese spies. Your colorful hair, always a statement of your vibrant personality, turned heads wherever we went, and I swelled with pride to have you, hand in hand, by my side.

Our age difference never mattered to you. You would often declare, "age is just a number," eloquently arguing how trivial such differences were, especially in your homeland. Your perspective was a refreshing antidote to prevailing attitudes, and your words never ceased to captivate me, no matter how often repeated that "American's were so ridiculous for being so concerned with age".

You knew, and you helped me believe, that love transcends numbers, barriers, and judgments. Love was our shared language, and in our hearts, we spoke it fluently, embracing a connection that felt pure and timeless.

Do you recall our enchanting journey to Thailand? The thrill that coursed through our veins as we rode a moped together, recklessly weaving through the city's maze. Our hands intertwined, we strolled through night markets, eyes wide and hearts open as we explored trinkets and treasures. Those intimate dinners by the ocean's edge, the taste of romance flavored with salty sea air, are etched in my memory.

And who could forget the froggy pajamas you lovingly picked out for my little girl? Can you believe the way she cherishes them, still wearing them after all these years? Your bond with her was special, your goodness resonating with her youthful innocence. She remembers you, so vividly, to this day.

I can still see the two of you on my kitchen floor, joyfully pretending to be dogs, lost in a world of play and laughter. It filled me with such pride to know you, to see the love you brought into our lives, a love that transcended the ordinary and made even the simplest moments feel extraordinary.

I fondly remember the joy in your brother's eyes when he discovered you had found me. Your unique ability to appreciate the beauty in both men and women was something special we all recognized, though your father wished for a more conventional path for you. Eager to explore your desires I opted to pass on that when I saw your taste in women. We laughed when I told you that I just realized that you were not going to play the butch in the relationship. 😋

My Indonesian enchantress, with only one name. I'm sure your singular name helped evade capture from the spies of the night although they knocked on the walls and forced us to ingest their hallucinogenic rhetoric. You were the oxygen that necessitated my blood. You were the iron to my blood cell. You were the protein that binds my hemoglobin. Your cunning ingenuity made you a sought after asset that any lab would want to hire as their genius.

I was aware that our time together was limited. The thought that you would eventually return home to Indonesia after school hung over us, yet it never dulled the vibrance of our moments shared. And so, you did go back, leaving me to face the harsh realities and pain of an unrelenting divorce. You returned once more, a brief and shining interlude, only to go back to your homeland again. But in those transient moments, we found something lasting, something that time and distance couldn't erase.

After reaching out to you the other day, I find myself yearning for your friendship here. Your words, once again, were like a life-giving breath that revived my dropping spirit, pulling me from a dark place. At that moment, I felt vulnerable, weighed down by accusations and doubt, led to believe that I had failed in every role, as boyfriend, as husband, as father, as son. But you, without even knowing the full extent of my turmoil, swooped in like a guardian angel, lifting me from the wreckage of despair. Your reassurance of my goodness to you felt like a saving embrace, and for that, I thank you with all my heart. I find myself longing to continue what we once shared, and I earnestly hope you'll accept my invitation to meet again in Asia, so we can pick up where we left off, rediscovering the connection that once brought us so much joy and strength. But I know things are different now and that possibility would be slim if at all existent.

Thank you for the enchanting moments we shared, however brief they were. They've left a mark on my heart, and I find myself hoping that our paths will intertwine once again in the near future, reigniting the connection that once brought us such joy.

-Your old American Loverboy