It's been over a week since my husband's daughter called her father to ask how he is, which is to be expected since she only seems to know him when she expects money to be spent on her, but considering the fuss she made regarding me not telling her about his illness, you'd think she'd at least make a little bit of effort and fake it if she had to. Not her.

I, did, however, receive an email from her older half sister on her behalf, letting me know that I should have shown her some respect and supported her during this difficult time, but I chose to be petty and immature by with holding this information from her, because, like it or not, it's her right to know. I have no words. I mean, I do, but none of them are very nice and the combinations that I'd choose to string together will be remembered with sheer horror for generations to come. I know that I shouldn't engage them but I really want to tell them both to stuff it sideways and dry but in the end, I'm hoping to give them enough rope to hang themselves with, like a couple of fat little flies caught in a web of deceit... In the end, it truly is the thought that counts.

It's going to fester in me. I'll be stewing silently for weeks to come, as my husband is recovering and doesn't need to have to deal with this drama that she's trying her hardest to create from a distance. I won't forget and when she makes an appearance around here during spring break, pretending that all is forgotten, I'm afraid of what will come out of my mouth given the opportunity.

It will never stop with her. She has called me Cruella DeVille behind my back since the day that I met her. I had the best intentions when I got involved with a man with children, especially a daughter, as fate never gave me one of my own. I treated her like one of my own, minus the ability to address necessary behavior situations. I had all of the responsibility but none of the rights or respect to go along with it and after a few years of her basically walking all over me and taking advantage of me and taking liberties with my personal items, I finally had to disengage for her safety and my sanity. I bought locks for doors and didn't allow her the opportunity to benefit in any way shape or form from having me around and she had to make do with the bargain brand items that her father bought her at the dollar store rather than being able to sneak into the nicer products that I indulge myself with . With respect comes privileges.

She has a history of stirring the shit, retreating back to her mother's house to avoid consequences, laying low for a few weeks until it blows over and she comes bouncing back in as if nothing had ever happened. Rinse. Repeat. This is just the latest in what I'm coming to believe will be a lifetime of dramatic episodes starring me in the supporting role of villianess. She won't someday have this amazing epiphany where she'll wake up one morning and realized that she's been a complete unlikable pos and suddenly see the error of her ways. I'm not holding my breath waiting on that. It will never ever stop, as long as I share a life with her father, because she will always see it as I'm taking something from her. I stole my husband from their family according her, but I honestly don't recall hiding and smuggling him out of anywhere or him kicking and screaming against his will. You'd think something like that would stick with me.

My husband is a good man. He's very mild and not confrontational. He would like nothing more than for us to get along as one big happy family, however too many things have happened for that ever happen and for me to be able to forget that it did and it leaves him in a very unfortunate position. For the first few years, he refused to confront her behavior, not wanting to upset her because she would run to her mother's house and he was afraid that she might not return but eventually, her passive aggressive behavior towards me became something that I just wasn't willing to pretend to ignore any longer and I called her out on her actions. I've always been billed as the bad guy, I might as well live up to my infamy, I guess... She went to her mother's house the next day while I was a work and hasn't been back other than picking up her expected holiday offerings a few times a year in the almost 2 years since.

In that time, she orchestrated another incident that she considered a major blow but was secretly relieved that I had no obligations. Her older half sister (from above)got married in October and together, they decided that my husband should be invited to her wedding alone and they sent invitations to all of my husband's immediate family as well, thinking that I would have been left home by myself while everyone goes without me. My husband declined the invitation as he wasn't open to going without me. Those two made such a big stink when questioned about it by my husband's father, that he also declined the invitation as well as those extended to both of my husband's brothers and wives. It pissed them both off that nobody from that family would be there to represent themselves and because of that, my husband was given an ultimatum by his daughter, her or me, and to her disappointment, I'm still here and life goes on without her, by her choice.

Things have been quiet since she collected her Christmas gifts until Valentine's Day when she didn't get anything from my husband because he was in the hospital. Easter and Spring break are next, followed by Summer break, when she will find out that her mother is on the hook for the rest of her tuition until graduation as the shared college fund with her brother has been depleted except for $2,000 on a 5 year out of state liberal arts degree that his mother helped him get into. I'm pretty sure that I'm going to be blamed for that by her as well, even though I have no access to it or influence on how it was spent...

It will never end.