The Naked and Famous - Young Blood
Maybe you were curious what happened to the guy who had his heart destroyed. Maybe you thought he was a pussy for crashing out over the biggest disappointment of his life. Maybe you never knew the backstory. Wandering through Gatsby’s abandoned mansion, you wondered what transpired. Maybe you just stumbled in. In any case, you’re here.
[Could have split into two posts. To save space, I refer to my ex-wife as K and the woman I fell in love with after divorce as C.]
There’s a scene in the movie Drive where a bad guy calmly slits a man’s wrist (the right way — the long way) and tells him to sit down, be calm, because, “It’s done, it’s over, there’s no pain.” That’s how I imagined C ending things. I held out my hand for a friendly goodbye handshake, and she slit my wrist cooly, as if it was her duty. But, it wasn’t over, and there was pain. I sat down, bleeding. I’m still here, and it still hurts.
I hate when people experience a small disruption and attach to it spiritual significance, but what I experienced wasn’t small. It shattered reality, shifted my understanding, and completely redirected my life. It wasn’t just romantic rejection. The way it was done ensured maximum destruction. It was deliberate, soulless, and targeted. The life I was building was destroyed overnight. It began in May of 2024. I felt a spiritual attack in August. A cascading series of events ensured nothing of my life remained. All my stability, security, and dreams were, in a moment, gone. My home, job, future, finances, and everything I worked for — poof. (And faced the probable loss of being in my son’s life.) The intensity and cruelty of the evil directed at me, including from C, was astonishing. If you're familiar with different spiritual attacks, you understand what strong witchcraft feels like. Then, I learned in March of 2025 my son was molested by a boy who lived below us. The police were involved. That family was to have no contact with us, but that didn't stop them from spitting on our door and other pleasantries. Turns out the safe place I thought we moved to wasn’t safe. What happens to a man when he receives so many blows? Rejection from C was the biggest blow (and accounted for maybe 80% of the decision to move away). I loved her more than life. This post was gut-wrenching. It is impossible to tell the stories of Joseph or Job without people looking bad. What C did — though incredibly hurtful — is not the focus; however, it is part of this story. It was forgiven. I republished the old posts, as I wanted to show the whole arc. I had nothing but love for C most of my life, which should not be forgotten. Never have I read someone so wrong. The Bible says the truth will set you free. In the end, the truth is all that matters. I didn’t “change my story.” I became aware. When you love someone, you’re in a different reality. My research ended in uncomfortable, unavoidable truths. Truth demands change. They say if it breaks your heart but opens your eyes, it’s a win. Requesting an end to the winning streak.
For those in a hurry, let me sum up, as this is a long post. We are all assholes, but love covers a multitude of sins. The person who loves doesn’t see the object of their affection as an asshole. To them, their person is perfect, and that’s how I saw the asshole I loved all those years. Let’s not pretend. C and her children were absolute assholes. Didn’t even like going to their house. But I loved them, which made them special. And if you’re reading this thinking, “But I’m not an asshole,” you are most assuredly an asshole. No one is good but God. Love in our heart is what makes someone special. Limerence is what I had in my heart for C. I admired her most of my life. Do you know what scientists say the best determinator of long-term success in relationships is? Delusion. Their word. I call it love. When we are in love with someone, we see them as the best version of themselves. We are aware of their shortcomings, but we love them as if they didn’t have any. They may be an asshole, but they’re your asshole. Still, reality has a way of intruding. If a thought, an idea, or a feeling cannot withstand the truth, then it isn’t reality. In other words, if the truth fundamentally affects or degrades it, it’s a fantasy. I present the truth from my perspective to the best of my ability. This is not the resolution I sought; it is what I was given. Had I not been so destroyed by C, I never would have gone looking for answers, reached these conclusions, or fallen out of love so quickly.
Still reading? You want the rest of the story. That’s on you. Denied the closure I sought (which would have taken no more than 10 seconds), the following came out of intense searching. I asked both before and after C cruelly ended things for a soft exit. After she destroyed me, she offered to meet on a day she knew I was be unable to so she could absolve herself. She flatly refused to say goodbye to me on the day we originally decided because she could not face the person she hurt, which is typical of her personality disorder. All show, no action. By contrast, I did everything in my power to help those I hurt to process and move forward, giving them closure the best I could. Since I asked at least four times (twice before and twice after) and she remained steadfast, my conclusion was her intention was to hurt me. (It wasn’t the fact that she ended it, it was how she did it.) Closure came at tremendous cost. I’m not concerned about what she thinks, since she disrespected me relentlessly and broke my heart repeatedly. She clearly doesn’t think highly of me. She got her closure. This is mine. I never sought revenge. There is no doubt I was wronged, but telling my truth is not revenge. Doing the right thing is not revenge. Examining what I learned is not revenge. This is merely a sad ending I did not want. There was no way to “level the playing field,” because what happened was beyond comprehension, was unequalled, and continues. I loved C. I asked God for better closure. I would have deleted the blog, but adding this to my testimony was the only answer. I followed through with everything put on my heart. Perhaps God will have mercy on me now.
Let’s back up. My life was epically bad. Writing was therapy, especially after divorce in 2017-18. There was a woman, C, I named a lot. Grief does funny things. In the outsized, enveloping, and suffocating grief of divorce, I latched onto C as a life raft. She threw me overboard and paddled away, leaving me flailing in an ocean of pain. This blog can be described as my screams as night came on in the deep, dark ocean after successively losing K, then C: like getting punched in the face, then punched in the gut, a one-two from which I never recovered. I don’t blame anyone, and I tried to tell all sides of the story (even collaborating, at times). Always tried to correct myself as information came along. I had no one to confide in and no outside help. (I wasn’t able to adequately process what happened between me and C because if I wrote anything that contradicted her narrative, she told me I was wrong. The blog has confusing, competing narratives.) The blog was my mistress diary, who kept all my shifting thoughts and feelings.
C erroneously believed I rejected her in college. (I mistakenly said something along those lines, yet never rejected her. Initially, I couldn’t remember. I always blame myself, and my heart tries to see the good in people.) That was not the case, as both our memories verified. I forced myself to go back to the darkest parts of my life to find answers. C even told her family she passed on me to continue dating the man she married (we were seeing her at the same time, but he was with her, and I was an outlier). I never rejected her and was consistent through the decades. If I had my way, I would have married her. Yet, it felt C wanted to punish, hurt, and humiliate me for supposedly rejecting her. I even recall the phone call when she let me go in 1997, when I thought to myself, “That’s the last time I will hear from her.” She wrote a letter when she heard I was leaving the state. In it, she said goodbye and she loved me. It was not a love letter. (When I brought it up in 2017, she didn't remember sending it, but rightly guessed I threw it away because I was intensely angry.) I respected her decision to live life without me. Little did I know that pattern would repeat in the future: same girl, same shitty behavior, same anger, same lack of closure. I recall listening to angry music like The Vandals and Guttermouth then. That rejection changed me. C married the other man, and, in her words, “married up,” which is called female hypergamy, if anyone wonders. (Hypergamy explains things like “monkey branching,” where a woman lines up their next person before leaving the first.) C punished me for rejecting her when it was she who rejected me, then showed me what I missed out on (which grieved me greatly). Why did I deserve that? I was just a random guy from her past who admired her. She let me believe I fumbled her, even though she remembered dating two men at the same time, choosing the other, telling me goodbye, and the exact time and date she was intimate with the other man for the first time (which was before she stopped seeing me, meaning she was was already committed and in love when seeing me). If a girl was in love with a particular boy for years, she doesn't jump into bed with a different boy. Why did she let things continue with me? She chose the other man and knew the entire time she made the decision to be with someone else, yet wanted me to feel bad about “missing out” on her. It was cruel. Other times, she blamed my family, her kids, her mom, and my furniture for us not being together. (The power to be with me was always entirely in her hands, yet she always blamed someone else, like the meme of the kid putting his stick in his own bicycle wheel.) The facts changed, based on what she wanted to believe (or to fit her feelings). She presented herself as one kind of person, then later she was a different person, and when I got used to that, she decided she was someone else. C deliberately misremembered/misinterpreted/misunderstood events/words/etc. I would say something, then she would turn around to say I said the opposite. At other times, she could recall exactly what I said for the purpose of using it against me. (Pro tip: anyone who uses your own words against you hates you.) It was a ridiculous mind fuck, and I have no evidence it was accidental or unintentional.
I did nothing wrong in my dealings with C. Any woman who can be taken away by another man isn’t worth having. And any woman who entertains another man while she’s seeing you isn’t worth having either. For C to say she loved me then — or any other time — was pure bullshit. Nothing in her actions said she loved me. If a woman of integrity is in love with one man, she doesn’t play the field. And if she is in love with two men at once, then please don’t choose me. That’s a whore. Any woman who puts a man into competition with other men is not in love with any of them. I spent the better part of a decade trying to convince myself C wasn’t actually trash. When you love someone, they get the benefit of the doubt. I was chasing a figment of my imagination. How do I account for all the writings about her? C triggered my attachment wound, which hinges on abandonment. Common to obsess over someone who abandons you, if you have that. I had an extreme aversion to her coupled with obsession. It explained why being around her felt exciting, as in, will she hurt or love me today? The avoidantly attached person’s push-pull produces an unhealthy dynamic of highs and lows, creating a trauma bond through brain chemistry. A trauma bond is an addiction which generates obsessive thoughts. Her behavior caused me to become chemically addicted. The crash-out I experienced after she rejected me a final time can also be explained. The withdrawal from being in a narcissistic relationship has been compared to what a heroin addict experiences in rehab.
C said the man she married deceived her and thought he was a Christian, etc., but he started their acquaintance by lying and prematurely pushing for intimacy. There were red flags, but her mind was made up (because she chose him). I’m not saying she should have picked me instead. She should not have. Go with your first choice. C stayed with him through domestic abuse, financial mismanagement, and infidelity. (While she couldn’t even be bothered to return my texts.) When I came back into her life years later (she reached out to me), she decided to separate, later telling me I was 100% the reason she got a divorce. She didn’t want to be with me and quickly severed ties. C used me to get out of her marriage. (Anyone who withdraws love or affection never actually loved you; they were using you.) Her kids blamed her (and not their abusive/cheating father), so she needed a scapegoat. No accountability. Always a different version of the truth, which shifted to make her look innocent and naive, often vacillating between being the hero/victim/martyr. I didn't see it then.
It took me years to figure it out because her behavior was so far from my frame of reference and couldn’t fathom a human being doing and saying those things. Still don’t know why someone would live that way. It’s insanity. Before she came back into my life, I didn’t even realize people like that existed. She made me feel inadequate and chronically unable to be with her, but, after years of continuously improving myself, it became clear she was actually unworthy of being with me. I now question every narrative she promoted and realize how susceptible I am to being manipulated. All the ways she hurt me plugged into the wounds from an abusive childhood, like she was purpose-built for the task. She became my ultimate abuser, her wounds going beyond all others. Had she not ended things so cruelly, I would still believe she was a good person, which would’ve made it difficult to get over her. Silver lining.
C kicked me out of her life again in the summer of 2017, which seemed noble, as we were both separated but still married. (Still felt wrong, because even David kept Bathsheba, as it would have added sorrow to all parties to turn her aside. God blessed their union (though not the illegitimate offspring) by sending His Son through Solomon’s lineage. I’m not legitimizing what David did, but it would have added to his wrongs to throw that woman away. To have an affair and then discard the other partner, especially after being physical, is whorish and yet another sin.) C waffled back and forth, reaching out at times, but also trying to reconcile with her ex, and also was involved with a man who was engaged to be married (sensing a theme). Every time C came to a point of decision about me, the answer was no. She said, in response to something I wrote along the lines of, “I just wanted one woman to call my own, one woman who belonged to me and only me,” because that was what I never had, that she wanted me with singular devotion when we were kids. If her statement was true, why didn’t she ever — even once — choose me when she had the chance? She could have had me. I wanted her and made it as clear as I could. (But was competing with a womanizer who was years older.) It was a home run. It never happened because she chose someone else because she didn't actually want to be with me. If it’s something we want, we choose it. C married the man she wanted. I was discarded, and, until 2024, that was the biggest heartbreak of my life. That original heartbreak in 1997 caused me to leave the state. (Moving away is a trauma response.)
Things “just happen” to C. She doesn’t connect consequences to actions. It’s self-delusion. At her core, C is wounded and believes she is unlovable. Around that core wound is an insane amount of guilt and shame, covered by a grotesque amount of pride. Probably why she moves so fast through life. She has to outrun all that. Stillness is where the truth lives and when shame surfaces. When shame is exposed, narcissistic rage follows. Anyone who exposes them for being imperfect becomes the enemy. One way to understand how she treated me is seeing how her ex treated her. She did the same. I realized they were the same person. She said it too. When someone tells you, “I’m a bad person,” believe them.
If C had ever loved me but missed out the first time, she could have easily connected with and acted upon all the love letters I wrote (or, as she called it, my “stupid blog”). She never did, meaning 1) she never loved me 2) she wanted me to think she loved me because 3) she wanted me to regret “passing” on her, which I never did because 4) it gave her power over me. I literally wrote the script for us to be together here, yet she rejected every revision. There was zero evidence she ever loved me. The mixed signals now make sense. She didn’t want me. Just wanted me to want her, but she had to keep hope alive. Thus, bread crumbing. People choose what they want, and she rejected me more times than I can count. Kept trying, though, until May of 2024, when I wanted to clarify what we were, which should have been a short conversation, allowing us to move on from our stalemate. This was one of the last times I presented the option of soft closure. (First time was in the fall of 2022 — before she came into my life in November, seemingly wanting to move forward. At least four times I presented a soft exit, which she rejected.) She misunderstood my message and overreacted, saying hurtful things. We were seeing one another for a year and a half (starting in November of 2022, when I recall asking her if she still loved me, and she nodded yes). Her family was overbearing, not realizing we were only friends, adding unnecessary pressure. (At one point I was invited to a lunch with extended family, her, and her kids and balked because we were treated like a couple when we were friends. The cognitive dissonance literally made me sick. Same thing happened when I was invited to a graduation party.) Felt like we were lying. I wanted to know if we were friends or more than. If we were friends, I didn't need to go to family things. No matter. In September 2024, she broke everything off — friendship and all — for good and forever. Every time she came to a point of decision, she chose to not have me in her life. That is not what a woman who loves a man does. Nor does she end things in a way that severely damages him (which C did every time). C never loved me. When a person ends things cruelly, the person they hurt never meant anything to them. We don’t hurt those we love like that. I don’t doubt she had feelings of some sort, as she was compelled by something, but not by love. Love has edifying fruit, which I exhibited. She had none. She was cruel and cold. I felt used and dirty, discarded and broken. I think about it every day because it was so troubling, her words and actions so hurtful. (I don’t think about her, just the trauma.) It came out of nowhere and felt like she was trying to hurt me. If I combined the awful things done to me by everyone in my life and compare it to what she did, C wins. No one had a more destructive influence. I was rejected many times by women, but it felt like she actually wanted to hurt me. Her rejections were the most painful because of how she did it. I don’t know what compels a human being to reject someone who loves and cares about them, especially in this day and age when real love is exceedingly rare, but to reject someone like that is unconscionable. It was a senseless act of violence. The consideration that goes into a relationship with a person who previously went through abuse or betrayal should not be overlooked. I consistently gave her that, yet she did not return it. The way she ended things was deliberate and premeditated, as was the destruction of any goodwill or happy recollections. A rescue dog like me deserved a better ending. If anyone thought she would one day apologize (or even say goodbye), I assure you I waited. After more than six months, I gave up. Even after that, she knew where I lived and could have stopped by, had she wanted to. She didn't. The only reason she would ever contact me is to tell me I was wrong. Her scriptwriter quit a long time ago. I get it. She thinks she’s perfect. An example. One time she was upset because I said whatever she decides to make food-wise would be fine (talking about if we were married; I was reassuring her), and she said, “Fine? I want it to be perfect!” I didn’t have the heart to tell her I can’t taste food, except spicy (like Mexican, Asian). Lost my sense of taste (and most of smell) five years ago. My health has been rapidly declining. 2022 was when I noticed a significant downturn. (Photo below shows how healthy and peaceful I was before C came back into my life a month later. I blame our unhealthy dynamic for my health tanking.) Can’t see very well. Can’t hear for shit (especially left ear), have tinnitus and other maladies, some necessitating surgery. Didn’t matter what I said. My devotion — though outsized — wasn’t enough. Perfectionism leads to paralysis and is a dead-end mindset.
C and I had fundamental differences. She only valued something if it could be seen externally, yet my best qualities lay beneath the surface, so my prayers and care for her were unappreciated. If a woman sees a man’s value, she brings it out of him — and flaunts it. C never tried, never saw my value. She consistently misjudged what I was thinking or feeling. No curiosity, no connection, no sense of adventure. And she seemed uncomfortable, awkward, and nervous around me like she was wearing itchy, woolen underwear. C was also talking to other men while seeing me, while I was talking to only her. And it felt like we served different Gods, as our beliefs were so different, and she insisted she heard hers speak when mine was silent. Her God told her to marry a psychopathic cheater and abuser, then later told her not to marry a man who would love her wholeheartedly. Hers was sadistic. She was mean when it came to spiritual matters and disagreements, in general. She’s a disagreeable person, even questioned a term I used pertaining to my job, like I didn’t know what I was talking about. She would not have been a help because everything had to be her way. She was unteachable, refused and second-guessed my leadership, and was rigid. Her Jezebel spirit was one of the strongest I encountered. Jezebel is very powerful witchcraft (manipulation, control, domination). I didn’t feel safe with or accepted by her. She even threatened legal action against me for doing what was biblical and right. I don’t know how a person who purports to be a Christian can treat another human being the way I was treated. I never would have healed if C was still in my life. I now struggle going to church because the people who hurt me the most called themselves Christians. Are you really going to praise God with the same hands and tongue you destroyed someone with? As Job disagreed with his “friends,” so I disagree with the majority of Christians. (I could call myself a potato, too; that doesn’t make me one.) We are all on different journeys. I get it. But there should be some parity. Modern Christianity is in the midst of the great falling away. (Even "bedrock" preachers like CW Spurgeon or Billy Graham were high-level Freemasons and served Rome.) It’s easy to see how so many will be offended when the heresies they believe, such as prosperity gospel, the rapture, and walking with Jesus is isn’t all sunshine and rainbows, etc. are proven false.
Since we were a bad match, why did I leave a door open? Why didn’t I see her as dangerous? On her end, I believe it’s possible C came to a point of decision, where she could have changed for the better. She chose to remain as she was. I can only speculate. On my end: I hiked for miles, year after year, after my divorce, asking God if I should walk away from my feelings, begged Him to correct me. Cried out more than 100,000 times. At no point did God tell me to walk away. I would have, as I won't wait for a woman, especially one who rejected me. Then, after she came back into my life, and after telling me she loved me, rejected me again. I was confused. Whatever I was waiting for wasn’t what I thought. The waiting God told me to do was the sole reason I was not able to move on. (Learning patience is an important task for a Christian, as God cannot use an impatient person.) After everything ended last September, the only council I was given was if God told me to wait, then the wait wasn’t over. And God does not withhold anything good from those who walk uprightly. For me to walk right into the biggest heartbreak of my life unsuspectingly seemed out of character with God. But who am I to argue with how God works? Yes, He let me walk into it with no warning, believing He would redeem the situation. The same God who allowed Satan to destroy Job (who was also blindsided) also pardoned the sins of a repentant Ninevah, and then chided the reluctant prophet. The same God who allowed what happened to me was the same God who sent His Son to die for a lost and ungrateful world. My pain could not properly be put into perspective until time passed.
Job was a righteous man who prayed over his children and likely prayed over all his substance, yet everything and everyone (except his wife, who told him to curse God and die) were taken away. His "friends" told him if you do wickedly, bad things happen. I'm convinced Job prayed against everything that happened. Events went contrary to his prayers, which may have been the biggest blow. (His wife surely knew this, so told him to abandon his faith because it looked fruitless.) Though his prayers were seemingly ignored, He trusted God. Job didn’t sit in the bullshit his friends heaped upon him; he countered their arguments. (Derek Prince said Job’s friends sound like today’s prosperity preachers. They miss key aspects of God.) In the same spirit, I wrote this post. I had a file an inch thick about how I thought God told me to wait over the course of many years. I never would have come this way had I not felt bidden. To say I felt wounded would be accurate. I trusted God instead of my thoughts. Perhaps the best explanation for what happened is Derek Prince’s talk “Life’s Bitter Pool.” To clarify, I’m absolutely not saying God betrayed me. God works in ways we don’t understand and weaves patterns we cannot see from our perspective. Talking about feelings is not the same as saying God did something. The story of Job proves when you have God and lose everything, you still have everything, and if God never did more than send his Son to die for you, you are still eternally in His debt. I applied the lessons in Job to my situation. It was clear God used the situation to draw me into the wilderness and to that bitter pool. There’s more.
I loved C more than life. If I was Abraham, she was my Isaac. Losing her was the worst thing and do not wish that trauma on anyone. God never told me to stop, that danger was ahead. Maybe because it painted a picture. And to crush me, as no one who walks with God will go unbroken. Something I noticed about many Christians is they are proud people. The closer you walk with God, the more humble you should become, as it is impossible to meet Jesus at Calvary and remain proud. This experience humbled me. I was destroyed and now depend on God to get me through every day. I am eternally crippled and useless in this world.
This post and these conclusions are a function of others’ choices. None of this is what I wanted. I felt God said to add it to my testimony. I was angry. What testimony? It was ruined, as was my reputation. My walk with God was over. How can I encourage others to do what God says if it leads to ruin? I was bitter. Joy was gone. God said to praise and thank Him in all circumstances. Reluctantly, I did. All I wanted was to move on, but He sat still with me in the pain. It was an unparalleled closeness, though my spirit was crushed. After wandering in the desert, I arrived at the healing tree.
I loved C with an unsoundable love and would have held back nothing, would have died for her. That love was as big as the world. Didn’t know where it came from, then recalled asking God for the thoughts and feelings He wanted me to have for her. So I loved C, even in the face of relentless rejection and humiliation, up to the end. Though tainted by flowing through an imperfect vessel, that love was special. After she broke my heart the final time, God asked if I was willing to love the people He tells me to love the same way. Would I love like His Son did? (Imagine rejecting Jesus, the literal antidote to all your problems.) Through all of those horrible years when that love was going out, never returned, God taught me unconditional love. Did C deserve it? None of us deserve unconditional love. If we got what we deserved, we would hang from a cross. God showed me the cost of following Him (death, humiliation) and how to love people who oppose themselves. No one opposes themselves more than a person who rejects love. I don’t know what would cause someone to treat a person who held out only good for them like an enemy, but I experienced it.
A picture of how I loved C is Adam and Eve in the garden, after Eve ate the fruit. There she was — a dead woman — standing before Adam. Adam knew she was doomed to die, yet he chose to follow her because being apart from her was worse than dying. From the beginning of history, the enemy knew the greatest strength or weakness of a man is a woman. I’ve never seen a man so destroyed as when a woman left his life. I’ve never seen a man so happy as when a woman entered his life. In the parable of the treasure in the field, Jesus is the man who bought the field (the world) for those who would be saved (the treasure). It cost Him everything and He held back nothing for the sake of securing that treasure. I could see a very imperfect parallel to that in my actions. C was the treasure buried in the field. It looked foolish to give everything up for her. That love was a gift she threw away. I will never know why, just as I will never know why people turn from God’s love. I’m not saying my love was anything like God’s love, just that I understood the sacrifice and pain better. One fact remains: God will not bypass freewill. We must make a choice.
Love is a choice. Abraham’s servant went to fetch a wife for his master’s son. The journey was prayed over and went as planned, yet it was Rebekah’s choice of whether to stay or leave and marry Isaac. She didn’t know Isaac (except that he was rich, which may have made the decision easier), but she made a choice. She could have just as easily said no. The provision was there; all she had to do was choose. When I think of that story, the most amazing miracle is that she said yes. (Notice Isaac never had to chase her. She was brought to him after she said yes to an unknown future. In fact, I don’t see men chasing women in the Bible. You may ask about the verse in Proverbs that talks about a man finding a wife, but I see examples like Adam and Eve, Isaac and Rebekah, and Ruth and Boaz, where the woman was brought to the man.) She didn’t know this man or Isaac. She didn’t love Isaac and had no context for a life with him, other than his wealth. Yet she said yes. The Bible makes it clear love is a choice. The world says love is a feeling. Nowhere in the Bible does it say for wives to love their husbands. It tells them to submit. Which is telling. C said no. She changed her mind, or so she said, but it seemed the answer was always no. I prayed many times over the years not that God would put us together, but, rather, that if God allowed her back into my life, it would only happen if He would bless us being together and we would be together. You can imagine my horror when C broke my heart again. Why did He let her come back into my life? She then went on with her life like nothing happened, like my heart wasn’t just ripped out. You can say it’s because of her autism, NPD, or whatever, but everyone is responsible for their words and actions. There’s nothing that says a woman who doesn’t love a man has to treat him well, but God watches closely how His children are treated, even by His other children. We are one short breath away from eternity, yet everyone lives like what they do doesn’t matter. At some point in eternity, I believe we can sit down and rewatch our lives, once and for all seeing what we couldn't understand here.
Maybe you think the trauma wasn’t that bad. Derek Prince said there is nothing more traumatizing than rejection. It cuts to the core, sending wounds to our deepest parts. Rejection is what killed Christ on the cross (Completely cut off from His Father. The only time the Father didn’t answer His prayer was when He was on the cross. He died of a broken heart.) He took our rejection upon Himself, giving us His acceptance by the Father in exchange. No one was more rejected than Jesus.
Then there was Cain, who killed his brother — ripping out his jugular in murderous rage — because his sacrifice was rejected by God. And rejection twisted and made forever ugly Lucifer. There is no greater pain or humiliation than rejection. The way C chose to end things was incredibly hurtful, unparalleled, and complete. She then walked away as if she hadn’t a care in the world, which was shameful, and was more concerned with how she was perceived by strangers than by how I felt (if she didn’t do anything wrong, why did she care what anyone thought?), and then decided my pain, which she called “drama,” wasn’t something she needed in her life. (No one should decide whether or not you were hurt. And it’s never okay for a human being to tell another human being they shouldn’t feel something. My reaction was on point.) She chose to end things in the worst way, then blamed me for being hurt. Doing people wrong and disappearing is not protecting one's peace; it is avoiding accountability. Who does that? Not the person I thought she was. C deliberately provoked and baited me to get a reaction to use against me. All of her actions, put together, depicted a very different person from who I knew and loved. How did she go from being my favorite to being the person I least like? The person I thought she was never existed. After researching, I found she fit the pattern for a female Christian covert narcissist. (Being kind with that assessment because some of her behavior was less passive aggressive and more malicious.) This was the only explanation that accounted for 100% of her behavior. All the other possibilities left questions. If you want more info, Kris Reece on YouTube has a lot about NPD, and this is a decent explanation of NPD. This explains how and why an NPD can turn on you and flip the script. I don’t want to spend hours of my dwindling time of earth expounding on this. I’m not building a case. I know what I experienced. (Yes, we all exhibit narcissistic traits from time to time because of our culture, etc., but there are things we all agree upon that make a person a narcissist.) One thing about the narcissistic content out there is the failure to admit the character traits of the survivors that made them susceptible to the narcissist in the first place. For me, those traits were shamefully on display. I recognize the role I played.
C’s behavior intended to insult, humiliate, degrade, hurt, cause depression and insecurity and trauma (and trauma bonds), made me second-guess myself, etc. She would wound me, then blame it on me, as in, you should have known, and then blame me for my reaction and act like she was the victim. I was never a jealous person before her but was when she triangulated. Now I actually feel sorry for who she spent her life with. No doubt her behaviors contributed to her ex’s feelings of inadequacy, insecurity, and, eventually, impotence. Her behaviors fueled his desire to cheat. Yes, he is responsible for his behavior, but I saw contributing factors. They were more alike than I originally knew — like a marriage of two snakes. Two NPDs together actually works, as long as they respect one another’s delusions of perfection. It’s all about taking selfies and showing off their lives. If there is a challenging of one another’s perfection, problems arise. And forget about intimacy. All NPDs are avoidantly attached. Two NPDs together is a good idea, if you ask me, because 1) they understand one another and 2) it sequesters two poisonous people, preventing them from infecting healthy people. When I heard this the first time, I couldn’t believe it: when C was married, she and her ex-husband went to therapy and C was called out for her behavior. I now see the wisdom. They played off each other’s vulnerabilities like vampires, like parasites.
There was nothing wrong with how I treated C, yet I apologized a staggering number of times. It’s better to apologize for something you didn’t do than let a rift remain. It's insane, because she never apologized, and I always had to find my way back into her good graces and "prove" myself. She used my goodwill as leverage to control and humiliate. I couldn’t comprehend how C chose to end our friendship. How could a human being do that to another, especially one who loved them dearly (and one they professed to love at one time)? The woman I thought she was never would have treated me like that. It was then the mask slipped forever. I did research, and, once I figured out she was NPD, it made sense. Let me put it this way. If a person wanted to destroy another human being, they could not have done any better than what C did. If you paid them, trained them, and made them study their target, it could not have been done better. The more I researched NPD, the more I realized this is exactly what narcissists do. They study you to find your weaknesses and vulnerabilities in order to control and eventually destroy you. It’s all about power. She was the perfect weapon. Her actions followed the pattern in three stages: idealize, devalue, and discard. (And sometimes a fourth stage: hoover, which restarts the cycle.) Some may think confronting a narcissist can change them. I told her how her words and actions hurt me, yet it changed nothing. (She blamed it on me.) It’s like expecting a reptile to have human feelings and self-reflection. Would you really expect a hollow, soulless being with no core identity to act like a normal, warm, and caring human being? Perhaps on some level C knows she treated someone as poorly as she was treated in her marriage, but no one will ever know. The only thing you can do with someone with NPD is get away.
NPDs don’t live in reality but are pathologically deluded to believe they are perfect. Anything that conflicts with that they cannot process, so there is always a struggle with the truth (and you have to lay aside your version of truth for theirs, which is self-suicide). They have a false self. Those who say things that conflict that false self are seen as bad. They cannot be reasoned with nor made to understand their state. Since NPD pathology is to protect their fragile ego, they constantly rewrite history, turning logic into illogic. At some point, NPDs touch base with reality because they have to know the truth in order to deform it. NPDs don’t live in reality, which explains why I felt unstable and confused when I was with C. At one point in the past, she said our conversations were not always "edifying." Wanna bet those times when it wasn't "edifying" for her were when I called out her bullshit?
In June or July of 2024, I sent C a message acknowledging the inevitable, asking her to continue to be my friend until I left town. (When I realized she was avoidantly attached, a romantic life with her was out of the question. Her ex said he was “the loneliest married man on earth.” Little did I know it was worse than avoidant attachment.) Let me frame this. If a man who you are not in love with — and who you clearly want to rid yourself of — asks for a soft way out of your situationship so no one gets hurt, why not let him have it? Instead of taking that better ending and soft way out for us, she decided to destroy me in a cold, cruel, and calculated way. In September of 2024, she wrote the email ending everything. Everything I saw in that letter came to pass, though she insisted I was wrong. (Gaslighting.) She never intended for us to remain friends. She wanted it to hit hard so I would exit her life forever. As a writer, I know when I’m reading someone’s writing, I’m seeing their thought process. It was like reading blueprints for my murder, which were executed perfectly. I begged her many times not to end things that way. She didn't relent, which said it wasn’t just an outcome she could live with, but the outcome she preferred. Who throws away multiple opportunities to 1) not hurt someone and 2) lessen someone’s pain, instead choosing their destruction? I wish I had never known her.
A woman who loves a man will run interference, not throw him under the bus (or allow others to see him in a negative light). C said a past counselor didn’t like me. He never met me, so the information he had came from her. I wanted the best for C, loved her dearly, and did nothing to hurt her, but she had a habit of flipping the script, moving goalposts, leaving things out, lying, and forgetting details to make herself look good. I couldn’t think of a single reason for her to hate me, other than my existence was a reminder of how poorly she behaved. Did she tell her counselor what happened in that hotel room? We met in May 2017 to discuss what the hell we were doing and presumably stop our affair. I would have gotten a better hotel had I known what would happen. She took her shirt off, and I hoped it wouldn’t go further. Did she tell him how she pulled my half-hard dick from my pants, held it in her hands, and said, “I can’t believe I have (my name)’s penis in my hands,” like I was a conquest? C climbed on top and put me inside as I dissociated. I froze the same way as when my best friend, Matt, molested me as a child. (Sometimes ya gotta take one for the team, but this wasn’t that.) Later, she had the gall to unfavorably compare my better-than-average junk (probably just average now, given my heart condition) with her then-husband’s. That’s not something that a woman who loves you says; that’s someone who wants to hurt and humiliate. For years, I wouldn’t let myself admit what happened. She had seven orgasms that time. I had zero. She asked if I wanted to get condoms from a gas station so I could finish. I said no. I didn’t plan on any of it and didn’t want to admit it happened. I was ashamed. The second time we met at a hotel, I knew it would be the last and knew what was going to happen, but since she had surgery a few days before, she had only two orgasms, and I had one (I slid between her thighs — a trick for pregnant couples — so no penetration so, in my mind, not sex). She even put my penis in her mouth, which reveals the tenor of that meeting. In total, she had nine orgasms, and I had one, which is a ratio most women would be happy with. Yet, years later, after I had long forgotten, she sat me down and said my orgasm was traumatizing. It was completely within the spirit of what we were doing. How was it any different from what she did? Was she even in the room? Did she not know how dirty and used I felt after she did and said those things, used my body, then discarded me that summer? Did she forget and twist everything because she couldn’t stand to be the bad guy? How did she convince herself she was the victim in something she planned, took part in, and later told me she enjoyed? (For fuck’s sake, she tanned before meeting me. A woman doesn’t do that unless she plans on getting naked and fucking.) Who was that person? It was an egregious example of her NPD, which included controlling, manipulating, dominating, gaslighting, triangulating, devaluing, discarding, baiting, future faking, double standards, moving goalposts, selfishness, passive aggressiveness, bread crumbing, double binds, condescension, identity erosion (a form of brainwashing), DARVO (deny, attack, reverse victim and offender), etc. She placed her internal shame on me (externalizing it) instead of dealing with it. Her behavior led to justifying, arguing, defending, and explaining (JADE) on my part. I couldn't see what she was doing. I should have known better. When I made the hotel reservation, I planned on two rooms, one for each of us. She said we need only one. I said, okay, then two beds, and C said we need only one. Naive or stupid? I had never done those things and had no context. On top of that, a year later, K, my ex, also forced sex upon me. Both times were nonconsensual. (The first time taught me I need to verbalize in the moment. The second time taught me saying no doesn’t matter.) I have not had sexual contact since, and I don’t masturbate. NPDs don't seek intimacy or a stronger relationship when they have sex. They seek to dominate, control, and humiliate. It’s the opposite of forming a connection. It’s an attack on what sex was designed to strengthen. The way women treated my heart, soul, and body — combined with C’s final rejection — destroyed me. How many times can a man endure the tragedy of realizing the person he loved and trusted was poison to his soul? C never loved me; she used me to feel better about herself. Stated another way: she didn't want me; she wanted me to want her. How else could I explain the jealousy she fomented by triangulation, telling me intimate details of her life, including sexual escapades? She loved herself. (Stated another way: I was her supply. She was attached to the version of me that served her.) When I stopped making her feel good about herself (serving her), she discarded me. Most people who have affairs still love their original partner; their affair partner made them feel something (alive, seen, needed, good about themselves, etc.). That explains the aftermath of our affair, which was basically her erasing me and trying to go back to her marriage. But, if being with me was just a mistake, why didn't she go back to her marriage? Because she used me destroy it. It was a power move. She didn't want to go back. She wanted out. She didn’t want him or me. It took forever for me to realize that, but she had to date her ex to make it look like she tried everything. For the record, I recognize my part as wrong, though I went passive and dissociated. A default decision is still a decision. I don’t absolve myself of wrongdoing or the punishment that followed. The years after divorce should have been for healing and moving forward, but I was stuck, wounded by C in ways I didn’t realize. Because Christians have no hellfire in their future, I believe God works out our punishment while we are alive. Just because our spirits are saved doesn’t mean we don’t miss out on punishment. We just don’t get punished in eternity. Here, we can have all the hell or blessings we desire. Up to us.
Why would C ever attempt coming back into my life at any time, if she didn’t love me? Either 1) she didn’t actually love me 2) changed her mind or 3) wanted to hurt me, all of which were wrong. Understanding NPD helped me get over her but didn’t heal the wounds. Her behavior triggered suicidal thoughts. No one exploited my attachment wound (abandonment) more than C. Our attachment dynamic (anxious-avoidant) is emotionally abusive for the anxious one (me). When it was over, I breathed a sigh of relief because I would never see or hear from her again. Let someone else reap the bitter fruit of her treacherous heart, reckless mouth, emotional retardation, and lack of accountability. She ran like a coward, like Daisy after Gatsby’s death. She had an exit plan and closed the door suddenly on the man she said she wanted to marry, the man who held her on his bed as she cried, as she slept, the man who prayed for her and with her, who prayed for her children, and who was was deeply in love with her. She wouldn’t even say goodbye to the person she was thinking of marrying? The question arises of how I once saw her very differently. Once I understood NPD, she made sense. They have a dual nature. C has two sides: one most see, which is kind and caring, and the other, cruel and ugly. (I called out her dual nature early on because it was hurtful, and she reacted with anger and deflection, saying I was the problem.) I projected the best parts of myself onto her, and she held up a mirror. Things now make sense, like when she got mad at me for checking to see if she got flowers I sent for her birthday and when she got mad when I sent Bible verses. She would say or do something shitty, and then when that didn’t go well, play the victim. (Works remarkably well for a lot of women. She taught the same lack of accountability, as well as an errant sense of entitlement, ungratefulness, and general bitchiness to her daughter, too.) She would treat me like dog shit, then act like I had to get back in her good graces, or would take offense at something at the drop of a hat, then turn around and say the most offensive things. I often felt on the defensive around her and couldn’t be myself. All red flags. My feelings blinded me. Thought I was chasing a unicorn, but she was a fraud. She lost someone who would have done anything for her. I lost someone who wouldn’t cross the road to put me out when I was on fire.
More proof C didn’t love me? She said she loved me to manipulate me. A person who loved someone — even if it was long ago — still has residual feelings, feelings which prevent them from saying what she said or doing what she did. Any person who says they love you but removes their attention and affection from you if you say something they don’t agree with or something that upsets them … never loved you. They are using you. To an NPD, relationships are transactional and are about power and control. Years ago, she stopped talking to me for months and told me I had a “bad soul” after I said something about her on my blog, which she said misrepresented her. What did I say? She had poor boundaries with her children and her ex. Her kids made decisions for her. Her ex would enter her house when she wasn’t home and steal things. He got naked and into her bed with her, which was basically sexual assault. (Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t read her.) But, I had a bad soul for pointing out the fact that she needed to protect herself. That’s how terrifying the truth is to an NPD. The guy who points out a problem is the problem, to them. C said I was mean when hurt, but I don’t recall a single thing that was deliberately mean. The truth is mean to an NPD, which is characterized by a fragile ego, emotional immaturity, obsession with how others perceive them, and zero accountability. An NPD will hurt you and try to make it seem noble, necessary even, like “Hooboy, I really don’t want to do this, but I have to.” I didn’t see it then. Everything is beautiful when you look at it with love.
If you’re trying for a relationship with someone, change your mind and hurt their feelings, that is on you. If you hurt someone and walk away as if you couldn’t be bothered, as if you had nothing to do with that person’s pain, then pretend the ending was their fault, that’s wrong. I felt violated and sick to my stomach. It was an intimate betrayal, yet I dodged a bullet. When I moved to Nebraska, C likely thought I was a stalker (inflated ego). I was not. Left her alone and didn’t even drive past her house. My goal was to heal and move forward. I knew I could do it there. She reached out to me and invited me into her life. I came to get closure and resolution for what she did. Had I known she would hurt me again, I never would have let her back into my life. I am not absolving myself. I learned a lot about personality disorders. And myself. I’m not special. Thought I was hot stuff, but I saw the way K treated me (most of the time, which was well). In her words, she worshipped me. She still loves me. What made me special? Nothing. Through the eyes of love, I was great to someone. The extreme pain of her betrayals caused me to stop loving her (choosing her) because love shouldn’t hurt. Now she’s just another asshole.
I saw C through those eyes of love, but we never made it work for one reason: she didn’t choose me. I chose to stop loving C because she was never the person I thought. And because love shouldn’t hurt. She hurt me more than anyone, which makes her just another asshole. If a woman tells a man she loves him and he is the one she intends to marry, then later tells him she does not love him and changed her mind (or other destructive behaviors), I believe God takes note. I was lied to. I was treated maliciously. A person who does that leaves their bloodline open to the same treatment. God is fair.
It took so long to get to the truth because it was the opposite of what I believed since I was 10 years old. The person I admired and loved was just another whore, just another asshole. There were two distinct people within C. I loved one and feared the other. People warned me to stay away from her. They probably encountered her dark side. I used to defend her, thinking she was just having a bad day or was in a rush. There was a woman who used to read my blog who called me, trying to change my mind, very upset I continued to love and wait for a woman who was no good for me (and who, she said, “isn’t even pretty,” as if it was understandable if she was pretty). The evidence was overwhelming, and there's evidence NPD hides behind other disorders (like ASD, ADHD) because of the overlap in behavior. I don’t split hairs. She fools most people, and those who see her dark side do what I did and reconcile it with what they want to believe. C faked a friendship with K, my ex-wife, (when we were still married) to make talking to me seem less adulterous. She didn't have to do that. I think she lied just for the sake of lying. When it was clear they were not friends, K was incredibly hurt. C was awful to so many people. Wouldn’t it be nice to go through life blind to and unaffected by the turmoil and pain you caused?
You say this isn’t very loving. The truth doesn’t care about feelings. How about Ecclesiastes 7:28? Do people wonder why 75-80% of suicides are men? (Men are nine times more likely to commit suicide after divorce.) I was fundamentally changed by how I was treated. A good woman would have completely changed the trajectory of my life. Instead, it was a string of hurt, betrayal, and abandonment, so I decided to stop seeking female companionship. Did you know, statistically, women are more likely to cheat than men? So many are treacherous, neurotic, illogical creatures who think the world revolves around them and act as if they will never reap the consequences of their actions. I don’t want to worry about whether someone will cheat on me, leave me, fuck someone else, change her mind, or choose someone else. The wound from C was worse than initially believed, went deeper, and was more cruel than any other. It broke something. When everything was lost and hopeless, I decided it wouldn’t stop me from following God. But, I can’t protect my big, stupid heart. I am eternally hopeful, and eternally stupid. From my research, people who go through what I’ve been through take a long time to heal (years, decades, lifetimes), and I have to once again retool my life. There’s no time. I wasted 30 years on awful women, my love returned with hate. Telling someone you love them when your actions say you hate them is incredibly damaging. I cannot comprehend the audacity and arrogance of a person who discards another and acts as if they never knew them, even when their paths cross. Like, girl, I held you when you cried, visited you when you were sick and hugged you in your kitchen and offered to make you soup, and prayed with you for your daughter. I was inside you; now you look away like you never knew me. Many of the darkest periods in my life were because of C. I will never forget the nights I cried myself to sleep. Every time I saw her, I was re-traumatized and still cringe when I see a black SUV. I understand why Elijah stayed far away from everyone after Jezebel threatened him. He sat on the mountain, calling down fire (heckuva party trick btw), not allowing anyone to get close.
Over the last year, I drew great comfort from the stories of Job, Joseph, and Elijah. After soaking in those stories and comparing it with my own life, I will never call myself a man of God, a godly man, or even a good man. I'm not even navel gazing. I'm an ant in the land of giants. If God didn't love me, it's clear no one would have. If God didn't care, no one would have. If God didn't pick me, I would have killed myself long ago. Without God, I would have no hope. The letters I wrote to my muse (posted previously) highlight two things: 1) all the love, romance, and simmering sexuality splashed upon these pages came from me and I carry it still and 2) I am irrevocably fucked, as one requisite of a muse is that she is not real. I forgive those who hurt me, but the damage is done. The women in my life were Bathshebas, Delilahs, and Jezebels. Don't think I'm letting myself off the hook. I made the wrong choices. When a psychologist sees something like that, they have to ask what we are trying to solve. Otherwise, we wouldn't keep choosing problems. It's illogical to keep choosing dead ends and red flags. Something buried in our past is begging to be solved. If I am able to trust a woman someday, I still don't think I will ever trust my own judgement. A man who can't trust himself isn't a man. He's nothing, nobody.
If C ever reads this (doubtful) and takes it to heart (impossible), my only words are, “It’s done, it’s over, there’s no pain.” Since she lives in an alternate reality, my words will sound like the rambling of a madman. But it's my closure. I didn't want to write it and likely never would have, had she not been so cruel at the end. And I probably wouldn't have felt the need to write the letters, either, as I saw my pain as God's punishment, for which I sought mercy.
The letters to C’s family I wrote last year were modified and recipients added, as my sin was egregious and greatly affected many. I was beyond grieved by my actions and believe God told me to confess what I did (adultery) to those who had ought (C's family) against me (Matthew 5:23-24). However, if I sent letters to all those wronged, there would be perhaps a dozen. The counsel I received said there was one person I primarily wronged, and that was C's ex-husband, so he received a letter. (The rest were secondary and to varying degrees. I did not directly wrong them, though they certainly had ought against me.) The reason I sent the letter was to be obedient. (The fact that C has voluminous evidence for her ex's infidelity when they were married as well as in his current relationship should defuse him. He may not even care.) The fact that bad things could happen by sending the letter was not lost on me. I argued with God for the better part of a year. I believe God rewards obedience and no one will be harmed (notwithstanding narcissistic injury). But, whatever discomfort she may endure won't last long and can't compare to what I endured. No, this isn't my villain arc. If I wanted to fuck someone up, I would have. However, I reserve the right to send the remaining letters, should C attempt to contact me. New email and phone number and moving away should suffice, but, just in case, this is my insurance policy. All I want is to be left in peace. She closed that door forever so shouldn't be an issue. The letter and this post weren't meant to hurt anyone. It was me trying to be obedient. And it was reluctant closure.
It’s appropriate to see what I’ve been through as war — undetected psychological warfare. Narcissist are serial killers without physical weapons, destroying you before you even know it. By the time I saw what was happening, it was too late. PTSD and C-PTSD are acquired forms of neurodivergence. Both are outcomes of narcissistic abuse. I knew I had C-PTSD and now know why. (It’s insane because C could have easily treated me the best, as the bar was already set incredibly low.) My God is bigger than those who hurt me. Bigger than my scars. When all was said and done, I saw why God told me to thank and praise Him. I was set free from a trap. I concluded C is a highly disordered woman who needs healing. Others might say she was a “crazy bitch” and closed the case. At least I tried to understand. I’m grateful I never married C any of the times it seemed possible.
These aren’t the conclusions I sought, nor for what I prayed. Events in 2024 added more sorrow and suffering than I could process, causing me to disassociate and enter a private place, where the carnage followed. I shut everyone out. (Except for a couple Christians, including my friend Calvin, who was supportive and understanding, for which I pray he is blessed.) I used to believe there was good worth finding in people. Turns out the world is a lonelier place than imagined. 2024 was the worst year of my life. I came across old papers from high school. There were prayers for country, family, classmates, teachers, faculty, staff, etc. Derek Prince said those who pray for change in the heavenlies and engage in spiritual warfare are God’s unsung soldiers, affecting history and future generations beyond our knowledge. I tried most of my life to tear down satan’s kingdom and will continue until my heart stops. I am ordinary, but I was given an extraordinary task. Much of the torment I endured was the result of that spiritual fight. I also made mistakes, for which I paid. My regret is I wish I had been a more present father. Because of the trauma and turmoil I experienced, I was working through things at my son’s expense.
I wouldn’t ask anyone to pray for me unless it felt right. There are times when I’m praying for someone and God tells me to stop, that what they are going through is necessary, perhaps punishment, a trial, etc. My life was partially the outworking of ancestral sin, my own sin, and that I pray spiritual warfare and practice deliverance, which makes me a target. But all God’s people are supposed to be in the battle. Most are not, which makes me a bigger target. God takes care of those He thrusts into war. I saw horrible things happen to those who came against me. I saw some get kicked out of church, lose their minds, jobs, ministries, children, families, lives, etc. I began to feel sorry for those who came against me. I never did anything. It was all God.
I moved to Nebraska in 2021, hoping for a fresh start. If home is a person, that place indignantly spat on me and sent me away. Life got worse there. (With the exception my last Nebraska deer hunt last November.) Every door successively closed in a short amount of time. If it wasn’t so obvious, I would have fought, which I did initially. I put down roots over four years and was uprooted overnight. I remember the exact moment when it felt all ties were severed. Before I left Nebraska, I visited old haunts one last time and closed forever the tale I told — the love story I wrote since I was the boy who sat behind that admirable girl in the fourth grade. Nearly 40 years she was my inspiration and set the benchmark for females. I had to leave her behind — just like the bike I had since age 13, buried along with memories of endless cornfields, art-class creations, and the scent of newsprint. The truth forever put to death nostalgia and questions of what could have been. I went back there to solve the riddle of a decades-old wound and found myself at the feet of Jesus. My life was filled with grief, turmoil, trauma, and betrayal, but the last 10 years ruined me. All good feelings, memories, and associations of C were replaced by terror, overwritten by extreme emotional and psychic pain. Researching and writing this grieved me. So many potentially good years were instead spent lonely and lost. To my son, who will read these words someday, be careful who you love and to what you give your time. True love doesn’t have an expiration date because love is a choice, not a feeling. God will bring what belongs to you at the right time. Stay close to Him because there is no other safety.
My son’s last school progress report showed his reading/language skills were at a 12th grade (nearly college) level (math also impressive). Mind you, he was in the fourth grade. One thing about highly intelligent people (a type of neurodivergence) is they need a stream of cognitive challenges to stave off depression and anxiety. (They also skip a lot of thoughts in conversation, which makes their thinking seem jumpy.) A brain that doesn’t have work creates problems to solve, which explains why western culture spawned so many mental illnesses. Our lives are too easy. Similar to my son, and because my brain and personality are so rare (rarest personality type), I cannot live as others. (My personality summed up: I understand everyone but am understood by no one.) Truth is the most important thing to me. What I went through with women caused brain damage. The brain can heal. A recommended therapy is writing, yet I hated writing this, forcing every keystroke, when I used to write about C with joy. After 100s of hours of research, I feel I deserve a PhD in Psychology. When I face a problem, I don’t stop until I solve it. I had to rewrite my own programming over the last year. The question arises of whatever did I see in C. It was an epic love. What happened? There’s nothing special or interesting about any of us. Some of us are downright awful. But a single choice — to love someone — ignites our heart with a flame that can last a lifetime. A simple choice. No one could be that lovely, but because they belong to us, they are.
I titled this blog My Careless Contagion because I felt my life negatively impacted those around me. I took responsibility for mistakes and fixed what I could. I wore my heart on my sleeve and didn’t hide even painful truths. In the end, my careless contagion didn’t sicken anyone but me. I’ve known for a while I am rapidly dying. The doctors’ prognosis confirmed, and I refused all treatment. I may have a year or two, perhaps longer. God knows. This shitty blog will suffice as my legacy and testimony. I want my last moments on earth to feel free and untethered. I squared up my account as best I could, as I will soon see God face to face. Don’t let my story deter you. Please love and love deeply. I chose the opening song because, to me, it sounds like what leaving this world feels like. I’m sorry this story didn’t have a happy ending, but know that when my heart finally stops, I will be surrounded by the love I so desperately sought in this world.
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