Oh, honey . . . you know he’s no good for you. You saw what he did. What he did to me. What he did to all the others. The many, many others. How he treated them. How he used them. Lied to them. Objectified them. He’s no good. Wipe your tears.
Sweety . . . he only loves himself. And the jollies he gets . . . from us. He’s uses and abuses his manly wiles. His masculine powers. He’s used and abused us. Got into our heads. Made promises. Said he’d take care of things. He didn’t. He didn’t care. Not really. Never did. And probably still doesn’t. Probably never will. Oh, darling . . . he sucks. Big time. Don’t you see that? Now take a deep breath.
Precious . . . why would you want your young son around him? So little man can be taught his ways? His immoral character traits? His low down, grimy tricks? That the way to live, is to live a life of lies. Lies that hurt innocent parties, and people, and wives? And your daughter. What kind of man will she allow into her life, after being raised by him? After being around him? One like him? One with no values or morals. One with no integrity? One who repeatedly is let off the hook to lie and lie, yet again? One who doesn’t value her worth or her body? One who doesn’t worship her emotional or sexual health? Get up and stand up tall.
Sugar pie . . . you think he’s the greatest thing ever, don’t you? The best of the best there is. A good provider. A good lover. A good partner. Poor you. Goodness doesn’t come in packages like him. His package is smushed on the inside. Warped from overuse. His package has been dropped and used so many times that he’s now damaged goods. And probably always has been. Go pack his things.
Pumpkin . . . don’t you see? He’s sour. He’s bitter. He’s poison. There’s no antidote for his bite. Only heartache. There’s no cure for his sting. Only a lifetime of untruths. There’s no medicine for the pain he’ll cause you. Only tears. Leave him.
Sweet sugar dumpling . . . pay attention to the trail he’s left behind. Consider his modi operandi. Look over his past. Study his moves. Don’t you see? You’re part of the solution. Tell him to bounce. Git ta steppin’. Don’t let him touch you. Sidestep around him. Show him with your actions, that his actions, are unacceptable. Unwelcome. His ways are selfish and toxic. Show him that he can’t treat your fellow females with the same disrespect he’ll no doubt show you. Again. And again. Show him he can’t objectify women and justify his actions as he flicks them aside . . . one by one. Run suga, run.
Honey-bunch . . . don’t keep going back to him. Don’t put him above you. Don’t pretend to pretend you don’t know. Don’t cover it up. Don’t keep giving him chances. Don’t allow him to be allowed to continue his wrath, leaving a trail of broken, empty, shattered lives behind him, without a care, as he moves on, swiftly and rapidly, without glancing backwards . . . at you. He’s been stepping over you as if you were a big mound of dog poop. Kick him out and don’t look back.
Sweetheart . . . you saw what he did. You know. Don’t be like me. Love yourself.
Babydoll . . . you saw me march on without that lying sonofabeep. Be like me, cupcake. Start over.
