I decided it was time to delete the secrets from your computer and phone. That I try and move past the betrayal.
Before I did I couldn’t help but take one more look around and that’s when I found it. The darkest thing yet.
You went on a fetish dating site. You used the details she had given you in her paid role to track her down in real life. You created a new persona and she had no idea.
Before then I convinced myself it was consenting women. I guess you could argue whether sex workers can really give consent but at least they knew. You preyed on her. Who the hell were you? I shared my life with you but you were someone else entirely.
How much of what you said to her was true and how much was your made up persona? Do you really have a friend you shared women with and had 3somes? Did you really pay women to do the things you told her you had? Did your fetish really start when you were 7? Who was the smoking woman?
Then I found the photos of your tumour you had hidden. How stupid was I to believe even to the end that you couldn’t open your mouth very wide at all? I just took it that once I knew you stopped lying about that but apparently not. I can’t unsee those images now. They will be with me forever.
I guess in someways you’ve done me a favour I was feeling guilty about the new things I’m trying. I’ve been dating a guy you know? I don’t even really know how I got myself into that situation. Probably low self esteem and a man who thinks I’m sexy and interesting and doesn’t see me as fragile. I actually enjoy it when I’m with him but it had given me conflict. Was it a betrayal? You surely would mourn me better than I mourn you? But I doubt you even cared about me at all anymore. I was a cover for a dark side of you that you wanted kept hidden. my grief is turning into utter disbelief and hate towards you. I can barely remember the you I thought I had, I’m just filled with thoughts on the man I’m finding. If you could be such a lie how I will ever trust another human again?
I talk to her online, she’s somewhere across the Atlantic and she was betrayed by her late partner too. He said the ugliest things about her to his friends. Lies society has been telling her her whole life came from the fingers of a man who was supposed to love her. She too feels used, she was a financial plan to him. Are you all the same? How could I tell if a man was honest? I believed you were. In fact I bet my whole life on it even when other men seemed to show it was impossible.
I’m not sure if I’ll stop writing to you, if I’ll take down the photos of you, will this pass? Will I accept you as two truths? That seems impossible. For now I’m just going to concentrate on myself and surround myself in the love I’ve found from friends, the love is the purest I could find anywhere.
I hate you.