A strange feeling

Despite seemingly neverending phone queues, and DAMN ANNOYING customers, I feel rather happy today. Looking at me last night when the "situation" occurred, you wouldn't think I'd feel sorta happy today. Right... let's get y'all up to speed on what happened...

I sat minding my own business, talking to hubby on MSN and having a quiet night in. Until 11.17pm when my phone rang with a mysterious number I later tracked to Switzerland (apparently a calling card number). I answered, and the conversation went something like this: Me: Hello-o...?

Mysterious caller: Umm, Liz?

Me: Ya...

Mysterious caller: Umm, hi...

Me: Who is this?

Mysterious caller: It's... um, me... Tyler.

Me: *hung up in a hurry*

I obviously must have looked disturbed, because hubby asked what was wrong and who had called. I just gave what resembled a cross between a snort and a high-pitched moan (it sounded like that to me, anyway). Again, slighty more worried for future wife's mental health, hubby asked who had called. When I told him, he seemed as taken aback as I felt.

At 11.20pm, the phone rang again with the same weird number. This time, the conversation went like this:

Me: Stop calling me!

11.21pm, it rings again. This time, I put the bastard on speaker phone.
Him: Just give me a minute...
Me: Fine..!
Him: I'm calling... because...
Hubby: Stop calling her, you asshole!
Me: *snigger* Your minute's up!
A whopping 2 minutes after, at 11.23pm, the phone rings again! This time, I am too agitated to answer, so I let it ring and off it goes to my voicemail. And as expected, a couple minutes after my phone beeps with a message. On my answering machine is this message.
Him: I, umm... there's been an accident, and I know I wasn't allowed to call, but I had to... accident... near dead... sorry... talk to you...
Much of the message I don't even hear, the blood is pounding angrily in my ears, blocking out all sound as I conjure up an image of sinking a big knife into his flesh. And laughing whilst I do it. Later in the evening, I receive an email in which he says he's writing this to me on the day he's supposed to be dead. Instinctively, I asked "then why the hell aren't you?!" to hubby's amusement and agreement. The bugger actually had the nerve to say he didn't ever think he could forgive me. Yes, him forgive me! HAH! I was the one deceived for five years, and nearly raped. He has no reason to not forgive me, because I never did anything wrong. My agitated reply read something like this:
How did you get my phone number? And where the hell do you get off saying "I thought I could never forgive you"?! You were the one that lied, deceived and damned near raped me! It should be that I can never forgive you... and I won't. I don't care what happens to you, so don't call and mess up my life again. It doesn't matter what bloody scenario might cause you to think of me, I never want to hear it so never contact me again.

I never want to hear from you again, so forget that you somehow found my number. Erase it from wherever you have it written down, and I swear to God if I hear your voice again when I answer the phone - you will have hell to pay. I will take this matter further in order to keep you away from me if you do not stop contacting me.
This morning when I came into work, I had mentally prepared myself for a sob-story email; aimed at my weak nature, its goal to make me feel bad for him. But instead I got victory. I had bloody well gone and won! His email finished with these words:
Goodbye Liz, you will never hear from me again...

HOORAY!!! :o) I am victorious! All bow to the magnificent moi!