Soreth @Soreth@awoo.space

So here I am now, four years later, scared to open the door and let anybody in, scared to look inside myself because my brain is a nest of trauma and regrets and pain, and unable to remember most of what happened for a year after I found out.

But surviving. Slowly but surely, one foot ahead of the other, surviving. Recovering as much as I can with time, trying to keep my thoughts from looping backward, which is all they want to do sometimes.

Besides, he was the more important one, obviously. He had a wife and children depending on him. I was obviously the expendable one. Obviously the one who should take the fall, if a fall need be taken. Why not?

I had, barely, enough self-awareness to realize that I was putting myself in danger with that line of thought. I told a few friends the things I would say if my mental state went too far south, and I am still ashamed with myself that I put that on them.

And when everything fell apart and I finally found out he'd been married and raising kids and lying to me, obviously it had to be _me_ who was defective. Because he had a family, because I still loved him, he became the one who was okay. Everything was obviously my fault, due to my own lacks, my own faults, flaws. I trusted him, right? My gullibility. I waited too long to tell him I loved him. It was all my fault, I couldn't believe otherwise.

"At least there's someone who loves me," I'd think to myself. "Someone who's completely honest with me."

Blind. Blind, blind, blind. I loved him, I trusted him more than anyone else in the world. Blind and stupid and trusting someone completely unworthy of it.

He told me I was the only one he was interested in, while he was raising his kids. His fucking _kids_.

I guess the one good thing I got out of the whole shitfest was learning what a completely unhealthy relationship looked like. I so badly needed something to be going well in my life that I was forever giving him a pass.

And I still had panic moments when it seemed just completely unbelievable that he hadn't found someone else, and he'd reassure me that no, I was the only romance in his life. And I'd believe him and things would go okay for a little while.

Me: As long as I keep myself from thinking or remembering, I'm fine.

My Brain: Hahahaha fat chance. *slaps cerebellum* This baby can fit SO MUCH TRAUMA. Let's open the hood.

It's not a good morning. Memories keep bubbling up. I've already asked for Tuesday off this week at work, because if it's this bad already it's going to be a goddamn nightmare by the time I get to the actual anniversary.

Damn him anyway. If he'd ever fucking been honest, I wouldn't be broken now.

Forked tongues a-flickering~

Munge your way through the evening in a variable funk, finally manage to climb out of it after reading through webcomics, just in time for bed. Ah well.

I mean, I always did have a soft spot for "Dave Davenport has Come Unstuck in Time"

🎵 Like a bad dream I once had
where everyone but me knew something
Walking blind through burning fields
the dead brigade is on my heels
They follow me, they follow me

Vampires go out the window.

Grenades also go out the window.

Big Tail Energy