<p>Fuck You</p>
<p>The last time I saw you, you said “Here. Congratulations.” No smile.</p>
<p>I said “Thanks.” My face matched yours.</p>
<p>In your hand, and then mine, was a wooden board.</p>
<p>You were my mom’s first real boyfriend. After a 22-year-marriage with a woman, you were the first real man my mom had in her life, romantically. You were the first real man Kelly and I had in our lives, period.</p>
<p>When I first saw you get out of the car, I said “That’s him?! He looks like a muppet!” My sister laughed. My other mom didn’t. Why? Because she was fighting the tears that had spilled out daily. The tears from a love that was always one-sided.</p>
<p>You were with her for two years. Every time you talked to me, it felt forced. Like you felt like you HAD to talk to me.</p>
<p>I was never allowed to curse in front of you. I don’t know why. Frankly, I don’t care.</p>
<p>But now&#8230;</p>
<p>Fuck you.</p>
<p>FUCK YOU!</p>
<p>You always made it seem like your presence was a gift to everyone around you. You know what gift you gave my mom?</p>
<p>You gave my mom pain. You gave my mom heartbreak. You put a gap in her heart that may never be filled.</p>
<p>When you broke up with her, she went into a deep, dark depression. No child should ever have to see their mom broken like that, because no mom&#8230;no person&#8230;should ever have to be treated the way you treated her.</p>
<p>She now has a restraining order against you because your creepy ass had to email my grandma in order to talk to my mom.</p>
<p>The first real man in my life? Bullshit. You’re the furthest thing from a real man. You are a fucking baby.</p>
<p>You brought home donuts, and then would take us out to dinner. Why? I’ll answer that for you. Because you wanted to please me. You wanted me to like you. And you figured that buying me food was the way to my heart.</p>
<p>Great.</p>
<p>Really, it’s great. Bribing the fat girl with food. Way to go, asshole.</p>
<p>The last time I saw you, you said “Here. Congratulations.”</p>
<p>In your hand, and then mine, was a wooden board.</p>
<p>You took the time to make a wooden board with a bunch of nails and string on it. It looked like California. You said it was to remind me of what state I lived in…..Mills is still in California, dumbass!</p>
<p>On the back, there was a Sharpie-written note, saying how proud you were of me for graduating with high honors, and a 4.05 GPA, blah blah blah.</p>
<p>Oh&#8230;and that you loved me.</p>
<p>Why would you do that? Huh? You didn’t mean that. You didn’t mean anything, ever!</p>
<p>Kelly and I believed you were a good human, and that we just didn’t understand you. You were the first male that my mom loved while we were alive. We thought “oh, maybe we’re just new to this.” Maybe if we called you Poopy we would have more of a connection. I believed that we were both good people, just not currently good together. But we’ll work on it!&#8230;.right?&#8230;..right?</p>
<p>Why wouldn’t I believe that you were a good person? I fell for it. I really did.</p>
<p>I fell for my own deceit. I was just too much of a kind person, and far from a quitter, to see that maybe, just maybe, it was never my fault.</p>
<p>I feel so stupid for feeling like I could even remotely trust you, you piece of shit.</p>
<p>But hey&#8230;that fat girl you bribed? Well, she is more body confident now, since you got the hell out of her life, than she has ever been. She is healthy. She is happy. She is everything she could have been while you were around….you were just being an obstacle. Like blinders. You were blinding her from all of her remarkable possibilities.</p>
<p>Blinders are for animals. The only animal is you.</p>
<p>Jordan Taylor Dubin is an actor, theatrical mover, writer, teacher, and huge musical theatre nerd. She was born and raised in Southern California and is now living out her 13-year dream of living in New York City. She holds a Bachelor of Arts degree in Dance &; Theatre Performance and Psychology from Mills College. During the day she works as a theatre teacher and staff associate at a college, and at night she’s an editing manager and freelance copy editor. Jordan is thrilled to have the opportunity to be published in Rock the Pigeon. Instagram: @arts_n_smarts Twitter: @_arts_n_smarts_</p>

Fuck You by Jordan Nickel-Dubin
