The Infamous Ellen James(2)

I wanted to vomit.

I could feel the bile rising in my throat, and honestly, it was a shame that I couldn't attempt an exorcist-style projectile puking session all over those two. I just stood there in shock while I watched

John roughly thrust into another woman over and over and over again. My John. The man I thought was my best friend. The man I was planning to spend the rest of my life with.

I remember loudly dropping my bag to the hardwood floor, causing John to still, and Veronica looked up. "Oh my god, Ellen!" Veronica said with an expression of horror on her sweaty sex face. I found her expression ironic, because she was still spread-eagle on my bed, with her hairy muff lips flapping in the wind. Okay, maybe she wasn't that hairy, but she still had more pubes than any woman should sport unless she's planning on re-enacting a '70s style porno.

John quickly stood up and turned to look at me. "Ellie... Baby... Ellie... Oh shit! Oh fuck! Let me explain..." He was standing there, dripping in sweat, with a god damned hard-on, telling me to let him explain.

I looked John in the eyes with a cold, hard stare, took a deep breath, and then slowly picked up my bag and turned for the door. John grabbed my arm while looking at me with absolute terror etched on his face. "Ellie... Babe... Wait... Please don't leave me! Oh my god, sweetie, I'm so sorry!"

I roughly pulled my arm from his grasp. "Don't fucking call me Ellie. You lost those fucking rights when you fucked this bitch in our bed!"

I could feel the tears starting to fill my eyes and slowly drip down my cheeks.

I was devastated.

I felt like someone had ripped my heart out of my chest and left me open to bleed out every last ounce of dignity I had left. I can vaguely remember John attempting to talk to me, but it was too late. My mind had already gone into shock. The last thing I remember about that night is taking off my engagement ring, placing it on the dresser, and walking out of our apartment for the very last time.

That was three months ago.

Three long months since John Ryan broke my heart into a million tiny pieces.

It was a night that completely turned my world upside down. A night that took a little part of my happiness and flushed it down a diarrhea-filled toilet. A night that, when I look back, the only words that come to my mind are fucking dickheads.

John and Veronica are the biggest dickheads I have ever laid eyes on. Those two selfishly put their horny needs first and didn't worry about the consequences. They gave in to their slutty, cock-sucking, whore-filled desires and ruined a long-term relationship that was soon to turn into a marriage.

A soon-to-be marriage that had all of the wedding details planned to a T. Dress was bought, venues were booked, flowers were ordered, and invitations were ready to be sent in the mail. What a complete and total shit-storm those two put me through. The headache of explanations to friends and family, the endless phone calls, the attempts to cancel everything that had been put into motion for the wedding…

I would have been better off getting ass fucked with a twelve incher, minus the lube. There would have been a heck of a lot more enjoyment, that's for sure.





Chapter Three



“Breakups are hard. They can turn your life upside down and send you on endless journey to pick up the pieces and find yourself again.”



After John trampled my heart, my best friend Amy was my rock. Our relationship is different than most. I know a lot of people don't really understand our sarcastic, raunchy sense of humor, but Amy has been nothing but a true friend to me. She is my best friend and has been a huge support system since day one. She's my shoulder to cry on, my drinking partner to let loose with, and everything else in between. Despite all of our witty banter and constant pranks on each other, I love her dearly. Amy has seen me through one of the lowest points in my life and managed to help me come out of that situation with my head still held high. Walking in on John having sex with another woman quite literally destroyed me. He betrayed me in the worst possible way, and for that, I will never forgive him.

John spent the first month after our breakup vying for my forgiveness. There were endless phone calls, text messages, unwelcome visits to my apartment, emails, and daily flower arrangements.

You name it and John attempted it.

The man was a force to be reckoned with, and somehow, I think he really believed we would get back together. In his warped, screwed-up head, I think John thought that I would eventually just forgive and forget his ultimate betrayal to our relationship.

At first, he even refused to cancel the wedding we had planned together. Eventually, after several weeks of no breakthrough, I think it finally sunk in that I was never going to get back together with him. The wedding plans were officially canceled, and I can only imagine the exorbitant amount of money John lost on deposits.