Love, Justine

Muncy State Prison

May 8, 2024

Wednesday

I got some glasses today. Same ones I got at Cambridge Springs. Stryder messaged me yesterday and asked if I wanted him to visit. I originally said yes, but then I thought about it, and said no today. He can’t even send me money so I can be “comfortable” in prison. Like–decent food and hair conditioner and phone time and shit?? Fuck that noise He only sends money to people he’s fucking not to his “friends.” I’m in goddamn PRISON, asshole. Like, if we were actually friends, you would care if I had the things I needed. But no. He sent me a whole messaged (which he paid for) about how it’s Motorcycle’s “responsibility.” 

Whatever, douchebag.

No matter that you have a full-time job and Motorcycle is living on disability, which doesn’t even pay HIS bills, much less mine. But he sends me money anyway. It just doesn’t make sense.  Daisy says that he’s a freaking weirdo/wacko that betrayed me so many times that she doesn’t know why I talk to him anymore. I don’t, really, either.

Maybe I should write him a letter:

Stryder, 

The more that I look back on our relationship and friendship, and the way you’ve acted toward me in the past and are acting now, the more I realize that we are not friends, and have never been. You were instrumental in my kids getting taken from me. You only “care” about me and want to help me when I’m sleeping with you. You still talk to Elizabeth about me just to have drama in your life and fight with her over whether you’re fucking me. If you were really my friend, you’d want to help me while I’m in literally the worst place this country has to offer and can’t do anything to help myself. We are not friends. You just love drama. And your self-righteous bullshit. You think if I “give my life to Jesus,” then I won’t go to prison anymore? You’re so full of shit. A mental health professional that doesn’t believe in getting mental health for himself. Right. And the reason that I don’t have psychotic breakdowns in prison is because I don’t have to look at my kids cry for me with their broken hearts about why they can’t see me more often. And that’s all thanks to you. You spent time in my house when they were little just so you could feed information to my parents. And look at you–father of the fucking year–letting your son be raised by an ACTUAL Bipolar/alcoholic/drug addict the whole time. What a fucking joke. And you continue to judge me. Well, have fun with that. I tried for years to believe that you had good intentions for me and cared about me, but in the end, it was all self-serving bullshit so you could paint yourself as the hero. Have fun with that. You want to know why you have no friends? Because you’re a fake and people can see right through you. A genuinely shitty person. I’m so sorry it took me this long to realize it completely. Not for you–for me and my children. You are an evil person. And don’t contact me ever again. My life is better without you in it, you manipulative asshole.

Fuck you, Stryder.