Guilt or No Guilt

Recently Blend contacted me to remove my blog — this one, under a previous name. I have always sworn to myself, my friends and my God I would never pull it down. So I simply renamed it. Often things happen for a reason. This new title is actually more likely to be found, with the right search words, for the problem you are having.

Blend could not handle reading about himself, what he did to me, and what he did to destroy a family. His family, my family = our children.

He sent multiple emails, texts and cried, telling stories of how my blog is a twisted truth. He’s right, it is — twisted that is. He is twisted and the poor soul will never be straightened out until he gets the help he needs.

Rarely do I think of Blend any more. He is a part of my past I do not have cherished memories of. He’s developed a part of me that will forever remain different. It’s not a good part, and I stay as clear from it as I possibly can. It’s important to me that I don’t let my experiences with him hurt others or their relationship with me. I can’t fathom the thought that he would linger that way, in my life. I prefer to always consider him far gone.

When he makes contacts and sends me and friends messages about me, in an effort trying to hurt me — that’s when I do think of him. He must have such a huge sense of guilt, he can not let go. It must be horrible to think that for at least 18 years you had a problem that spouse and friends tried to get him to accept getting help and he refused. A mother who harbored his illness and sometimes even fed it, and a closet so dark that not even he can see beyond it. I visualize him still sitting at his computer on a regular basis. Seeking women of all shape, size and yes…unfortunately ages. Quickly developing an online relationship with them and masturbating to their words and photos nightly. When I was away, the hours he spent on chat calls, long distance calls to women as desperate as he, and eventually meetings with like women or unsuspecting women who have no idea — he’s only in it for the thrill of the chase.

But then I realize, there is no more thrill for him. There is no longer an innocent wife in the background, with opportunity to “catch: him at what he is doing. No heart pounding, adrenaline rushes at my expense. So what is he doing now? I suspect he is searching for another faithful victim like myself. An innocent who will not learn until years later that he has a pattern. God help those who continue to fall his victim, whether it’s the one in the foreground or hidden somewhere in his car door, his wallet, his phone, his computer, his memory . . . you too will find him guilty.