At the bottom...my playlist is empty

I have nothing nice to say. I am not a happy person. I do not have 5 nice things to say.

I am miserable.

My birthday was yesteday and it ranked right up there with the death of my grandfather, with my inital shock of my getting a divorce, and my coming to grips with the fact I will never know my father.

It's not quite a death bed moment, but it ranks right up there and it will not soon be forgotten.

I am angry, sad, humiliated, and very very hurt.

I have given Legs his last rights and have informed him that until I get an apology we are through.

a⋅pol⋅o⋅gy 
Spelled Pronunciation [uh-pol-uh-jee]
–noun, plural -gies.
1.
a written or spoken expression of one's regret, remorse, or sorrow for having insulted, failed, injured, or wronged another: He demanded an apology from me for calling him a crook.
2.
a defense, excuse, or justification in speech or writing, as for a cause or doctrine.
3.
(initial capital letter, italics) a dialogue by Plato, centering on Socrates' defense before the tribunal that condemned him to death.
4.
an inferior specimen or substitute; makeshift: The tramp wore a sad apology for a hat.

Yesterday was plain and simple.....hell. It was all I could do to tough it out and not flee.

I am a fleer....is that spelled right...ya know what I don't even care.

If something goes very very wrong and I get very uncomfortable, I run.

I wanted very badly to run yesterday, but I didn't I stayed put until after supper, then thanked my hosts, which were Legs' dad and his girlfriend and Legs' sister. I then promptly gathered my stuff and got the hell outta dodge.

Even as I type this, my ETD (Essential Tremor Disorder) is kicking in and typing is brutal.

Legs humilated me the night before (on the 11th) at the supper table infront of all and all I could think of was the time Millertime (the ex), was drunk at a party and we were sitting around the fire in the backyard, and he hit me hard enough that he knocked me over and I fell over a chair and hit the ground. I got up dusted myself off and walked home. I was broken inside.

The nightmare continued the next day (on the 12th). My birthday. Yesterday, I was broken and enough was enough.

Today, I am in my own. Today, I have had a chance to think things clearly and an ultimatum was the only thing that I could think of. I can not and I will not put myself through that shit again.

Not again. My sanity depends on it.