Almost Divorce Part 33- Darkness Over Day; PJ’s “death”

This series is  published no less than once a week on Thursday’s.  Or you can start at the beginning here

A timeline can be found here.

So here it was 3:46 in the afternoon.  I send the why did you chose to ruin my life and how could you be so evil for nothing email.   I don’t even have to wonder what is going to happen next, I already know the answer. It has been foretold many weeks prior, PJ is going to run.

And that is exactly what PJ does. He does not choose to respond in any manner, he does not choose to apologize or set the record straight, he does not choose to say Yep, haha, gotcha dumb bitch. He simply chooses to completely vanish leaving all questions and lies intact.  I’ve started telling a few close friends what happened as it begins to set in. PJ faked his identity and when I caught him,  he vanished. That is the truth and it is my standard answer I find myself repeating over many more times than I would like in my life.  I’m on the phone with Sunshine around 6ish as I start to check for signs of life.  This involves going into Reddit and looking around and sending emails I don’t want to send to accounts I know are going to come back as bounced because they  no longer exist.  PJ deleted his Reddit posts, he deleted his Reddit GWP account. I’m sure he kept the other creeper or legit accounts, but I have no idea  what those are.  He does not delete the comments he has placed on my previous posts,  I thought that was a nice touch.   He deleted his newest “real” Gmail account, he deleted his emoregw@gmail.com account.  He cannot delete his Skype account b/c Skype does not allow that.   He will choose to use that little tool to fuck with me some more in December.

The details of the next couple of days are kind of fuzzy. I don’t know if I had the kids or not. I know I was in utter shock and the waves of emotion were gathering under the surface. I was almost in a daze, there was a lot of crying but also just utter confusion as my brain started to try to make any kind of sense about how to handle this situation and still function.  I know I had an emergency session with Tab.  Is he a sociopath or a psychopath?, I ask her. Yes, he probably is, she replies.  We talk about how there isn’t going to be any closure for me in this situation.  Part of my punishment for being the one to end his sick game, is robbing me of  what he knows I wanted most after him, closure.  Sociopaths get their kicks from the torture and control, from the havoc they can unleash in your life , in your heart and soul. They get their kicks from creating chaos and pain for you and they don’t like it when their toys are taken away.   Is my love Paul one of those? Yes,  in my opinion he was/is.   It’s a conclusion I fought every step of the way, but I knew it from the very minute I figured out I was being played and I’ve come to accept it through time, distance and writing this blog. That man tried to destroy me for his own personal pleasure. What he succeeded in  was fucking with me and causing me as much pain as possible for as long as he could, and then leaving in a way that would set me up to mind fuck myself for him for another lengthy time  period. And it worked, because I spent at least 15 months getting over something that only lasted 5.   Tab explains to me that I am going to have to figure out what the end of the story is  all by myself.  I will have to process it, heal from and  come to a landing place that will provide me the closure that I need. She does not expect that he will ever come back, ever tell me any kind of “truth” and ever care what he did to me. I am merely a discarded  broken plaything that won’t cooperate and is no more fun.  The fact that he called me “doll” is only more poignant.

What is it like to have a relationship where the guy tells you he loves you and you think he hung the moon and then he vanishes in the middle of lies?  I was talking Shorty’s ear off in our hotel bed last Saturday night about just this very topic. I haven’t experienced any of these things I am going to compare this to, but in a few sentences I hope I have conveyed my point. I imagine it is similar to finding out after your  husband dies that he  is a child molester and the child he was molesting was your own. I imagine it is similar to how the character Anita Shreve created  in  The Pilot’s Wife felt when her husband was killed in a plane crash and  he had a whole 2nd family stashed somewhere.   I imagine it is similar to losing the love of your life while he was committing some horrible  act, like fucking a hooker in crackytown and then getting shot by her or his pimp.  Heinous acts have been committed against your very soul, and the perpetrator is gone and will never answer  your questions. Intent can never be determined, apologies are not coming, healing and the path to forgiveness is all on you, except you are currently in some state of broken.  Darkness over day. It  is the largest destruction of my heart I have experienced.  I’m proud to be  intact and sane today.

I put my divorce on hold because I quickly come to understand that I must sift through the last 22 week of my life.  I must examine and evaluate every tiny little thing that I have done that is related to PJ from start to finish.   The Husband is in agreement with this plan.  It isn’t a plan of we are getting back together. It is, I don’t know what just happened to me and I need time. The deluge of pain is coming,  but for now I’m still in shock.   The mental hits are on their way, but in those first few days all I did was cry, mostly whenever no one was looking, write things down as they began to creep into my brain or hit me from no where and  ferociously research sociopaths.  My friends were all very happy he was gone and the lack of sympathy  I received for the situation was simply astounding.  After all, they already knew all of this, I was the last one on board and I am guessing in their minds it was nothing but a good thing, my pain be damned.  In fact, I often felt like I was expected to simply get over it, stop talking about it, pretend it never happened etc. I don’t do well with being told I’m not allowed to feel or act a certain way. I was left to heal mostly on my own. My grief was tolerated at a bare minimum.  Only a very few would even entertain a conversation or not shut me down in some way with verbal or physical  clues that they were not the slightest bit interested in hearing  anymore.  It was like, It was all fake what the fuck is  your problem, just move on.    I even had one friend laugh in my face, twice, while she told me that I was just mad that I was played.  That felt great.  It certainly did take me a  very long time to get over it and refusing to continue to be silenced by choosing to start writing this blog helped.   The moral of the story here is stay the fuck off the  anonymous side of the internet and if you choose to go there willingly may GOD  be with you because once you are entangled in whatever it is you find there,  HE will be the only one that will be able to help you get out.

More to come soon lovies.