Letter from Lila

I held my tongue on your lame phone call, as a mercy to you, but I’ve since learned just what a sick, selfish, vindictive bitch you are, so I’m going to respond. And you can rest assured that I’m going to do more than spit your name at you like it’s the worst thing you can call someone. I hope the name Lila is still on your lips when you leave this world.

Why did I send Sam a picture of my gorgeous breasts? Because I knew it had been years since he had seen a pair worth looking at, and I knew that was something he missed. And I hope the image seared itself permanently into your retinas.

Don’t ever ask anything of you again? Bitch, please. My back child support paid for your honeymoon. You sit at my kitchen table for your meals. I helped get your husband out of jail to bring him home to you. While I was in the process of that, your stupid, selfish narcissism had to disrespect me and insinuate that my son was the result of a one night stand. Nothing could be further from the truth—that wasn’t even the first time he knocked me up. I had an abortion the first time. And nothing could have been more disrespectful. You earned my contempt in that moment. Actually, that’s not true; I saw who you were at your wedding: the absurd Disney princess dress with a train at forty years of age? Omitting the “speak now or forever hold your peace”? All of that told me that you a were a child fiercely clinging to her fantasy, and there was no way in hell you would allow reality to have any part of it.

Here’s some truth you need to accept: even if I never existed, you would not have a baby. Even if I never existed, you would not have a perfect life. Maybe you should ask yourself what kind of god would give a child to a woman who never made room in her heart or home for her stepson simply because he wasn’t her own flesh and blood. You never made an effort to include my child in your life. You’re more invested in your hair than you ever have been in him, and it looks like all of that peroxide is taking its toll and frying your hair. Everyone can’t be a natural blonde.

Never talk about your health again? Oh, you mean your inability to fuck. Maybe you should have learned fellatio and kept some romance in your marriage, if there was really any there to begin with. I kind of doubt it, based on the fact that Sam and I were fucking again well before my family moved away. If you had been smart enough to befriend me instead of making me your enemy, I would have turned him down out of respect for you. Too late for that—my respect is further out of your reach than a child of your own.

It’s weird that you’re such a psycho bitch about our past, like you don’t have one of your own. I mean it is really fucked up to care so much about your own childish fantasy that you seek to negate the love that brought a child into this world in order to preserve it. Say that to yourself out loud: you wanted my child’s father to tell me that he never loved me. You seek to negate what came before you. This was something you wanted to witness because you are an exceedingly cruel child with no concern for anything that doesn’t directly affect you, although your lack of intellect prevents you from being fully aware of how your own actions have repercussions that come back to you. You were actively seeking a theatre of pain for your own selfish desires. I can’t believe you’ve fooled so many people concerning your character—you’re the most hateful person I’ve ever known. Do you live in some fantasy world where you and the ones you choose are the only members of humanity who deserve love? Psychiatric help wouldn’t be a bad idea; your narcissism is off the charts. I imagine it’s why you’re unable to get over yourself and why you blame everyone else for your life not being perfect.

And don’t worry about what I say; worry about what I write. It will continue to exist long after you are cold in your grave with all memories of you gone, Shitty Shari.

Yes, you made yourself clear, crystal, if I recall my response. Now, it’s my turn to make myself clear: women like me don’t answer to girls like you. Never will.