Mirrors and reality

Okay, one more time, a little louder for those in the back: I don’t want your short, bald, disbarred, psychopathic, lying, cheating, womanizing, alcoholic, old, broke, piece-of-shit rapist of a used E-Class-driving pathetic excuse for a life partner who went to a state fucking school.

Do you understand me?

I am here because I am trying to make some difference in the world.

I am here because that asshole raped me, and I deserve justice.

If you can’t get that through that stupid fucking unattractive head of yours, you need counseling.

Get help.

I am getting the help I need. I am a little crazy and whatnot, but you pushing me? You fucking faking him raping you? Or him raping you? I still don’t know which.

You harmed me.

Let me make all of this shit clear. You harmed me. Not vice versa. I know neither one of you wants to take accountability for your goddamn actions ever. But accountability shows the fuck up one day.

First, your married ass seriously interfered with MY ACTUAL relationship with him. You realize that, correct? I was the one who was not already attached. You had a husband and children that you just fucking threw away for that guy. But please don’t get it twisted. He was my boyfriend. He was your mistress. Mine carries a lot more weight.

Frankly, there was the night of July 4th. If he had spoken to me, this whole pathway this went down changes. Him showing up that night was the moment all of this could have been different. You are the only reason he didn’t.

And get this shit straight: I am glad it worked out the way it did. He would have talked me out of it. I never would have reported it. And we would have stayed together too. Always remember that part.

It took me just fucking not knowing what to do or where to go or who to talk to about the rape for me to report it.

That was the betrayal from him. It was him not being there while I lost my mind and had to decide what to do without him.

I did it wrong, but frankly, I thank God every day that I finally realized that he was just a liar and a worthless bastard who, despite telling me how much he loved me, his commentaries on unconditional love, and him saying he would be there for me, abandoned me when I needed someone. Not a lover, not a boyfriend, not a partner. I needed my best friend, and he abandoned me for some fucking married whore with a loose fucking pussy, no soul, and no fucking conscience. And a complete lack of self-awareness.

And don’t ever mix this up: it’s not because he didn’t love me. And I was so fucking much better for him than you are. He was learning. He was feeling emotion. He was feeling what actual support and caring felt like. He was experiencing something he had never experienced before: understanding, forgiveness, compassion, empathy, and what unconditional love actually means. He was supported. He didn’t have to be in there alone in his head. That is what I was.

He was, of course, just destroying everything in me. Killing every part of me. So I am so grateful to you for taking that away. He would have just destroyed me. Only one of us would have survived it.

So thank God you’re just some fucking whore. He doesn’t have to face himself now. He doesn’t have to get better. He can stay in his head because it’s easier there for him. It’s what he is used to.

But one day, he won’t be able to drink it away. He won’t be able to take out the anger he has at himself on you for sexual gratification.

One day, he will go to prison. If it’s the last fucking thing I do, he will go to prison. Because he destroyed me. He raped me. And the thing of it is, everyone fucking knows it.

When that day comes, he will be alone. And he will not be able to drink it away. That’s his hell. He will be in a little 10-by-10 box with nothing but himself and no way to make it stop. That is all he will want: for the thoughts in his mind to end. He will replay everything he has done and all of the women he has harmed in his head on repeat until, hopefully, he dies there. Alone. Sober.

You, ma’am, will die alone too. Just remember that. He won’t be there. He never fucking is.

Meanwhile, you both will hate each other and constantly be looking at the other, wondering. You will share only the superficial. That is all either of you knows how to do. I suppose if you don’t know any better, it’s fine. Suspicions everywhere. The underlying contempt for yourselves and hatred of who you are.

You live in that every day. But all you care about is the superficial. Sometimes it’s best not to know from nothing.

But, Amy, he does know, though, because he had me. I don’t want him. I would think we are pretty fucking clear on that. But I cracked something open in him, and it’s never going to go away. I’ll be in his head forever. That little light I flicked on will always be there, and he will always know it, and he will always regret it. Not all of him, but I still have one part.

You are probably unable to understand most of what I’ve said here. I am speaking of something that you have no knowledge of.

He could never figure out how I always knew shit. It was because he was so basic. There was very little complexity to his thoughts. There is now. Untangling Christmas lights. He knows what that means.

Please go away. I’ve given him too much already. You want my attention and my caring now? Go the fuck away. You, of all goddamn people, don’t get it.

Think of someone other than yourself for once in your goddamn life.

Go live your fake life until the police show up and take him to prison. Take all the trips to Mexico you feel like. Birthdays and Christmases and fake smiles covering the fear you both have of being rejected by the other.

I get to live in both of your heads now. Forever.

I have been the one destroyed in all of this. For loving someone. For giving them too much of me. For believing that empathy and kindness were inherent in all people.

Let me heal, please. That is what this is about. Me healing. That is what the website is for. It’s for me to heal. It’s for other women who need to heal. Frankly, you are actually part of the target audience because I know what he is doing to you. However, you decided to weaponize it against me to cause me serious harm. Why? Well, I think it’s because you chose to blame me for something he did. He makes his own decisions. So do you. So do I.

It’s accountability that appears to be the issue for you both. I take accountability for my actions. That is part of what has been ripping me apart. My accountability.

But you have to feel something to understand that. And he already told me you can’t feel anything but pain.

I do not want him. I grieve who I believed he was, what I gave him, and what loving him cost me. Those are not the same thing. You are not protecting your relationship from me. You are interfering with a rape victim’s attempt to seek justice and heal from what your partner did. Stop making my trauma about your insecurity, take responsibility for the harm you have caused, and leave me alone.