Looking Back . . . I should have known
Navigating the intricacies of our relationship, I often ponder whether our twelve-year age gap merely served as a minor obstacle or played a more profound role, especially considering Blend’s circumstances and struggles with addiction. Reflecting on our wedding day, a remark made by the minister—“from his mother’s apron strings to his new wife’s”—resonates deeply, encapsulating a reality that would unfold in the years to come.
Blend’s upbringing, characterized by his mother’s routine of leaving him alone in the evenings, paints a poignant picture of his early independence. While this arrangement may have raised eyebrows during his teenage years, it offered him a sense of autonomy as a young adult. By the time we embarked on our relationship, Blend had grown accustomed to the solitude of his own space each evening.
As our bond deepened and I spent occasional nights at Blend’s place (actually his mother’s abandoned home), I stumbled upon a moment that would leave an indelible mark on my psyche. A routine trip back to retrieve a forgotten item led me to witness a private act in progress—one that, while natural, felt jarring in its timing and setting. It stirred feelings of inadequacy and confusion, prompting me to question the dynamics of our relationship and my role within it.
In hindsight, I came to realize that this incident was not a reflection of my worth or our connection, but rather a manifestation of Blend’s addiction—a force that exerted its influence over our lives in ways both seen and unseen.
Indeed, our relationship defied conventional norms, casting me unwittingly into a maternal role I neither sought nor desired. Most women aspire to a partnership built on mutual respect and reliability, yet ours was marked by complexities and uncertainties.
Join me as we unravel the layers of our journey, delving into the complexities of addiction, relationships, and the delicate dance of self-discovery amidst the chaos of it all.
Starting Off With A Warning
This is my first post.
Embarking on this journey, I often find myself reflecting on those moments when hindsight becomes painfully clear. How many times have I muttered, “I should have known” or “the signs were all there,” echoing in the corridors of my mind like a broken record?
Let me introduce you to Blend, a name I’ve chosen to shield the identities of those affected by the storm he brought into my life. It seems fitting, doesn’t it? Blend—a concoction of charm, allure, and hidden darkness.
Our encounter was on Thanksgiving eve, a chance collision of two worlds. I, a young woman and mother, spent my evenings helping and working amidst the laughter of a comedy club, while Blend, with his striking appearance and flirtatious demeanor, entered my orbit. We shared laughter, and he requested my number—a connection forged in the fleeting moments of the night. Little did I know, his interest in me extended beyond our brief encounter. He trailed me from afar, a silent observer of my life, unbeknownst to me, like a stalker, until years later.
The following day upon returning from Thanksgiving dinner with friends, I was greeted by a barraged flurry of messages on my answering machine, each one a testament to Blend’s persistent pursuit. Initially endearing, perhaps, but with the passage of time, they morphed into something altogether different—a chilling reminder of his unnerving fixation. My friends and I listened, perplexed and unnerved by the lengths he went to capture my attention. “He’s troubled,” one friend remarked, the gravity of his words sinking in as we dissected Blend’s unsettling messages.
In the years that followed, I grappled with the repercussions of engaging with Blend, confronting the stark reality of his abnormal behavior.
Join me as we delve deeper into the labyrinth of my experiences, a cautionary tale of love and manipulation, where the line between charming and chilling blurs, leaving scars that linger long after the wounds have healed. Scars so deep I am certain my never heal.
- Remember, dear reader, what may seem innocuous at first glance often harbors a darkness that should not be ignored.
Where did I go? 