I am so proud of myself. I lived through a nightmare and came out on top and stronger. And I orchestrated the whole thing. What the hell am I talking aboot, you ask? Let me take you back to last march... I ran into one of my exes whom I hadn't seen since 2006. We got back together and he moved in with me. His ex-pantload, I mean girlfriend, was pregnant with some random baby that may or may not have been his. So, long story short, he treats me worse and worse the closer the due date came, and then leaves me to move back in with her as soon as she shits out the kid. Even though there were several other possible fathers, he refuses to have a dna test because the brat looks enough like him to satisfy him, and because he loves kids so much that he doesn't even care if its his or not(personally I can't see how anyone could like children. Nasty little bastards they are!). So that's that, I think, and I pick up the pieces and move on with my life. Six months later- this March, he calls me, begging me to let him move back in cause they don't get along, he has nowhere else to go, etc. I'm taken aback of course. But, since there was still a small soft spot in my heart for him, I said yes. I did not let him come back so that soft spot could be soothed and pacified by his presence, no - I let him come back so that soft spot could be completely murdered, so that I would never think of him with anything less than pure disgust and loathing ever again. So I'd never again show weakness in front of him or for him. I knew he'd act like an asshole again, even though he swore he mended his ways. I knew that his attitude would kill the few positive feelings I had left for him. He thought that he could just waltz back into my life and I'd take him back straight away. He got the surprise of his life when I showed him the room he'd be renting (I think he thought we'd be sleeping together), and informed him that we'd be roommates only. He expected me to turn back into the perfect little house-girlfriend that I was last time, that I'm sure of. But he didn't know that the torture he inflicted upon me 6 months ago had had other effects besides making me cry. He had awakened a sleeping dragon, and that dragon was going to attack him with unmeasured fury, yet so subtly that he would never know what hit him. I made his life hell, all the while smiling sweetly and offering him more pop tarts. I didn't clean the house (only my room, which remained exquisite and cozy), I never talked to him, I made noise when he was trying to sleep, I turned his dog in to the pound after he beat her senseless for the last goddamn time(and I made a deal with the lady who adopted her that I could come and ger her back once he moved out!), I laughed as his screaming brat refused to let him sleep. I laughed even harder at the hell his baby's momma put him through. I even thought about poisoning him but thought better of it. I had my fun watching him suffer, and then I got rid of him. He didn't know that I am a witch, and not one of those idiotic little white light wiccans who play with candles and incense because they're afraid of real magic. I follow the ancient ways, and anyone who fucks with me regrets it in the end. Mr. perfect christian thinks witchcraft is evil, and he forced me to promise I'd give it up when we were together last time. He's so stupid it's almost not even funny... anyway I performed the simplest yet most effective curses on him. The black salt and banishing powder worked well, and one of the fiddlebacks in his room dealt him a nice necrotizing bite under his arm at my willing. A mere two weeks after I began hexing him, he was gone. Even I was surprised at the spells' efficiency. But I suppose when you hate someone enough, your will acts as a force of it's own. Now he's living with his mommy, at age 29. He has 3 children by 3 different mothers and another on the way. He's in debt, broke, and completely miserable with no one to turn to because he's burnt all his bridges. I was perfectly willing to be friends with him even after what he did to me the first time. When we were together last summer, there was nothing I wanted more than to marry him.