I slept well last night, surprisingly. I guess when I get my truth out, my head is clear. I have decided that since he is determined to continue reading my blog, I am no longer going to censor what I write because of it. I will write as if he was dead. And her. I could care less.

That means, if I need to continue to peel back the layers here, I will. He can’t discuss it with me, he can’t respond to it in any way. Nor can she. Although, what she has to say doesn’t infuriate me anywhere near as much as him. I get where she’s coming from. She’s a jealous, possessive woman. She responded previously to prove to me he is hers.

Well he’s all yours, Betty. The man you turn him into is not the one I ever wanted.  And make no mistake, he morphs for every person he meets.  It’s why he has few friends, because no one knows the real him.  He  can be molded easily.  But I never wanted to mold him, only to know him, as he was.  And to love that person, in the center.

I just can’t imagine why he would want to keep reading every word I said, on the chance that it might be about him. And even if it IS about him, why does he care? He supposedly “loves” Betty. WTF does he care what I have to say? This blog is anonymous, it’s not as if anyone who reads it would recognize him or her on the street. So what does it matter? He says if I don’t want him to read it, stop writing about him. Well…if he didn’t read it he wouldn’t know would he? And the only way to find out is to keep reading. To say that’s why he reads it because I write about him, is putting, using an anachronism he loved, putting the cart before the horse. You won’t know if I’m writing about it unless you read it every day. Even if I don’t write about you for a week, Scott, or a month, I may then write something about you. So you’ll have to keep reading them all to find out if you are still on my mind.

Well, I know that he’s a classic narcissist, and loves to see his name in print. He loves the attention, good, bad, ugly… It’s still about him. I could care less what he thinks of me. Which is why there is no avenue of communication open to him. I’m totally uninterested. I know too, that any communication is only to draw me into his darkness, and I’m not going. I’ve been there enough.

It’s possible that he reads the blog because some deeply buried part of him wants to find a way out of his darkness, his unhappiness, his dysfunction, his depression. Because I write about that a lot, how to get up when you’re down, how to find your way back to the place that connects you to the one great thing. I always told him he ‘s worthy and he is. But when he’s with Betty, he’s going the wrong way. He and she bring out the very worst in each other. They are comfortable with that, with saying I love you in spite of the fact that you won’t allow me to be myself, in spite of the fact that you lie and deceive me, cheat, and re-write your story constantly in order to be able to recreate yourself in the image I want you to be, because I won’t accept you as you are, or try to make you happy.

She would NEVER write erotica. And he loves it. She would never do a lot of the things I had no problem with. Things he loved. Things that put a real smile on his face. So he changes to be acceptable to her. Except…he can only do that so long before his soul rebels. He’ll rebel again. Not with me, but he will. Those feelings, those emotions you bury, don’t die. They rot and fester and either make you sick, or cause you to react. To act.

Blech. Sad sorry way to live.

And then there’s the thing that’s been going on since she came back into his life. The fact that he could never let me go. It’s why last summer unfolded as it did. It’s why I don’t hear from him for months, and then find him in my bed. Or get some smart ass voice mail, and the voice mail is always to do with this blog, because the blog is the thread that continues to connect him to me. It seems there might be some of that twin flame relationship stuff going on. Push pull (push me away for 2 months, then run to my bed….now push me away again…only to pop up with some stupid voice mail that was, once again, a lie…) Chasing, catching up. Then falling back into the darkness.

It’s whatever. If he gains something positive from reading this blog, fine. If it angers him, I’m sorry, but I can’t help it. I love the truth, and it’s not always comfortable, it’s not designed to feed the ego. He was part of my life, and I’m not going to pretend he wasn’t or that we never existed, I’m not going to deny the way I loved him, nor the ways he betrayed me again and again. I’m not going to silence my thoughts on all of it. Whatever may come. Some days something, some days nothing.

If he has to keep reading, he’s on his own. I will not allow him to pull me into his darkness. I continue to seek the light, and the source of it.

Love and light, everyone.